Giving Them What They Want
by probablyawful
Summary: The real story behind Puck's pool cleaning business. He knew he wasn't a good guy. He knew he had screwed up beyond forgiveness plenty of times. But that didn't mean he didn't want, or need, someone to care for him. But to do that, he had to give people what they wanted. And from guys like him, people mostly wanted only one thing. Rated M for sexual situations.
1. When You've Lost Your Will To Fight

**A/N: Hey guys! As you may know, I am already working on a fic for you, and don't worry; it is NOT being put on hold. I am just doing two at the same time. **

**As you all probably know, I am a hardcore Puck stan. I could go on forever about how much I love that character, and I know I am not the only one who is feeling a little uneasy when it comes to his pool-cleaning service, which really is only a cover-up for prostitution. So I decided to give my own take on it. Enjoy!**

It started back in sophomore year. He had just turned sixteen when it started; it was right before he joined Acafellas. Right after Santana had dumped him over his credit score. He didn't want to admit it, but that had hurt him a little. Not as much the dumping as the way she had done it.

So, even though his ways of dealing with shit being thrown at him, usually consisted in locking it all inside or just strum some song on his guitar, and then when time came, lash it all out to the nearest person, this time he actually decided to take some action and _do_ something to get over it.

Did he ever love Santana Lopez? Maybe. He didn't really know. Did he feel sort of close to heartbroken at her absence? Probably. But he felt more lonely than heartbroken.

He knew he wasn't a nice guy. He was no Finn. He couldn't make mistakes and then have people magically forget about them the week after. And apologizing really wasn't his style, but that was mostly because his apologies had never seemed to work.

He'd tried to apologize to his father for making him so angry back when he was still around, but no matter how many times Puck had apologized for what he couldn't comprehend he had done wrong during those times, his father had just shrugged him off and beat him again after a few days.

So he just kind of went along with it. And he realized that seeing as he couldn't be so easily forgiven for what he had done, and apologizing wouldn't do him any good, he had to look for what he had to give to make people care about him. To make people see him in a somewhat different light.

But what did he have to give? Not much, he figured. He wasn't a nice person. He had already mentioned that he was no Finn. No one could ever see him as some innocent poor little thing. Quite the opposite, and most of the time, he was perfectly cool with that. He noticed a lot of things about a lot of people; good and bad, but when he noticed something bad was up in their lives, he rarely ever reached out to them.

They would probably not want any help from him anyway.

School wasn't his biggest strength. He magically happened to be good enough in math to not attend any classes, but still study for his tests and get good enough grades to pass the classes every year. But yes, seeing as he never attended class, that was already out the trash.

One could ask; didn't anyone really care about him? His mother? The answer was a big fat no, as far as he was concerned. She had stopped caring back when… Scratch that, she had never cared.

No one did. And he had deserved that carefreeness from people around him. He was an asshole, after all.

But that didn't mean he didn't _need_ someone to care for him. To take care of him. Right now, after Santana's break up, he seemed to need it more than ever. So much he nearly had become desperate.

God, he was pathetic.

He had heard people referring to him as a man-child before. He hadn't really known what they'd meant at first, but as of right now, as he sat there in his car, about to make one of his most life-changing decisions, he thought that he sort of had a clue.

It was true that he somehow had been forced to grow up a little too fast for his liking. He had after all had to learn to become the man of the house at age ten. His family had been pretty domestic like that. He'd lost his virginity at age thirteen, and he had already now, at age sixteen, been in more fights than the average male of Ohio had in a lifetime.

But that was just it. He was sixteen. A sixteen year old boy who had never felt like anyone could ever love him. The closest he had come was Mrs. Hudson. She took him into her home so warmly and naturally sometimes that Puck found himself for just a brief second imagining she was his mother for real.

So maybe this would be the perfect job for him, after all. As far as he was concerned, it would fit all his needs, at the same time as he wouldn't get more than he had deserved.

It was pretty immoral, sure, but his morals had pretty much gone out the window a long time ago anyway.

You know, actually this wasn't illegal either. It wasn't statutory rape, no matter what people said, so he didn't really get what the big deal was. He deserved someone to care for him like everybody else… Couldn't they all at least agree on that? But he didn't deserve it the same way every other kid deserved it.

So he took a deep breath and made up his mind. He was going to do this. He gave a dry chuckle. It was pretty ironic really; he wasn't exactly the brightest of guys, but he had a livid imagination, coming up with this somewhat insane plan all on his own.

So with another deep breath, he got out of his car and headed for Mrs. Johnson's house.

Maybe now he would somehow find the care he'd been longing after for so long.

Because here was the thing about Noah Puckerman, if he for one second should allow himself to be really honest with himself: He had, despite everything, a few vulnerabilities. As soon as anyone made him feel like he was worth a shit, which didn't happen very often, he'd do the only thing he was good for to make them keep feeling that way.

And the only thing he seemed to be good for was a warm body in bed. And that was the reality of the situation.


	2. In Your Reckless Eyes

**A/N: here is the next chapter, guys! Sorry for the wait, my gap year is eating my life. Trying to get a job and no one wants to hire me. Pretty depressing. Anyway, there is smut in this chapter, you can view it however you want. Either this will disgust you or turn you on or both or neither. No judgment! Enjoy.**

The first couple of pool cleaning sessions that he did went by quite smoothly, and it also went down quite respectably despite the circumstances. He went up to the lonely housewife's house, stripped out of his shirt, cleaned her pool, got the money for the cleaning, have the woman flirt with him, flirt back, eventually take the business to the bedroom and fuck her harder and faster and better than her husband could ever dream of, get the tips stuffed into the front of his jeans, and then get the fuck out of their before Mr. Husband got home.

It was a pretty fair deal, and for a teenage boy, it was a pretty good deal. He got laid, he got off, and he got paid to do it. It sounded completely wrong, and it probably was as well, but for a teenage boy with enough experience, getting paid for sex was the best deal ever. No question.

Of course there would be problems, and there would be issues with taking on such a profession, but at first the little issues that came up weren't more than Puck could handle, or more than he had expected for that matter… _Or more than he deserved._

The fact that it wasn't really statutory rape was so far at least a blessing. He was sixteen years old, which meant he had just reached the legal age of consent in Ohio. Oh yes, he'd looked it up.

He was no stranger to sex before this entire business started; he'd bedded more girls in school than he could count, and he was still only a sophomore. He had more than enough experience to take on this job. The thing was only that technically, all the other times he'd had sex, he'd been the one in control, or at least the situation had been pretty equal.

That wasn't the case here. The women were in control one hundred percent. At first it was thrilling, in some terrifying way. It was new, and he was more than willing to try new things in the bedroom department.

He didn't really know if the submissive role was something he could see himself in at first, but he quickly learned to adapt.

He knew he gave those women something they could never dream of getting from their husbands and that kind of meant something to him, to be able to do that. To be able to give them something they couldn't get elsewhere. At least not in Lima.

Even if that something was just letting himself be used anyway they wanted. It was the least he could do for having been a screw-up for most of his life, right?

He wasn't really one for making commitments. The relationships he'd had in his life, both romantic, sexual and none of the two, had been short and rather empty.

So maybe he let them have that control, if it meant they cared for him in some sort of weird, misguided kind of way.

It was a little odd to begin with though; the way it was so totally, completely different to sleep with women old enough to be his mother, compared to what it was like sleeping with girls in school, not only when it came to control.

He'd seen that uneasy look in some of the young girls he'd bedded once they were done. Like they wanted something more of some kind, but were sure that wouldn't be given to them. Some form of compassion.

The only way he could give them that, was to not leave or kick them out once they were done. And he didn't do that, at least most of the time. He had done it a couple of times, he wasn't going to lie, but that was more when he was younger. He was, after all, in as much need, if not more, of that kind of caring ways, as they were.

So he usually stayed with them. Unless he had a pool to clean, that was… The women never liked when he arrived late. And who could blame them? He was working for them, after all.

**XXXXXX**

Mrs. Johnson was his very first pool client. He had just turned sixteen. She was in her early forties, but looked extremely good for her age, so he figured it didn't matter much how old she was. Besides, she was totally hot.

Mrs. Johnson also, eventually, turned out to be one of the only pool clients of his that he had no fucking clue where he knew from. That went through links, he figured, links of people they knew. She was the sister of the cousin of someone who lived next to someone who once sold a vacuum cleaner to his mom's boss… Or something like that, he didn't really know, and he didn't really care.

As he walked into her yard, heading for the garden, where the pool was located, he saw the woman. Clad in a navy blue bathing suit, she approached him. He was wearing a black tank top and ripped up jeans hung just low enough not to show off his pubic hair. He knew he looked hot, that was no question, and apparently Mrs. Johnson agreed fully.

Removing the sunglasses from her face onto the top of her head, she licked her lips seductively, almost like a little kid in a candy store. Puck knew that look on her face, simply because he was a master of it himself. She wanted him.

He would have been lying right to your face if he had said that he wasn't nervous. He was. Hell, he was sixteen, and he was currently about to give up all of his control to this one woman, who basically could do whatever she wanted with him. To him. But hell, he signed up for the job after all. Can't handle the pain, don't join the game, right?

And what the hell could she do? It was just sex, after all, and he had a lot of experience on that front. More than any other sixteen-year-old he knew, that was for sure. This would be fine, he figured.

In all honesty, it wasn't like this petite little woman could make him feel more worthless than he already did… Not that he would ever admit that to anyone. It wasn't anyone's to know. They all had their own problems. Real problems. Why should he bother them with his, when they didn't really care about him anyway?

And why should they…? He was an asshole, after all. That was it. He had deserved their carelessness.

Mrs. Johnson approached him with graceful steps, until they stood within a very cleverly measured distance. Seriously, one should think this woman was a professional. She stood exactly close enough to say that she wasn't about to jump him right away, but too close for it to be a formal event.

"So you're the pool boy, huh?" she asked with a suggestive smile. One should think she had learned all her bedroom eyes from him. He was the sex shark of Lima after all, age regardless. Oh yes, his cockiness was in its place. That made everything so much easier. Confidence was gold, even if it was faked or some mask to cover up for something. It worked. Every time.

All he could do was return her smirk the best way he could. Judging from the even more lustful expression that appeared in her deep brown eyes, she bought it immediately. She seemed turned on by it even. Well, that wasn't exactly surprising. If there was one thing he had real, true confidence about, it was his appearance. And his skills in the bedroom, but that was also about it.

The woman smiled a bit wider, revealing a flawless set of white teeth that under no circumstance whatsoever had come just from some clever use of braces in her adolescent years… That was pretty much four hundred years ago…

It wasn't that she was ugly, but she was still old enough to be his mother, and he couldn't really shake that thought yet.

For a brief second, Puck found himself wondering if he would even be in this position if his mom had been a little more affectionate towards him when he was a child. Seriously, he couldn't even remember the last time she hugged him. Must have been before his father left. After he left, she pretty much only looked at her son the same way she had used to look at her husband; with pure disgust in her eyes.

Puck sometimes found himself wondering why she hadn't left him before he left them. They never seemed happy together. Sure, she didn't exactly break into the "fight", or whatever you chose to call it, when his dad had beat him senseless on the kitchen floor, but that was pretty understandable; if he hadn't been there, she would have had to take the beating, and being pregnant with Sarah… Well, that would have gotten some serious consequences.

Puck sometimes allowed himself, for just a very brief second, to be ever so little proud of himself for those moments when he had taken those beatings… But they hadn't mattered much. His mother had never mentioned it, never thanked him, and Sarah thankfully didn't know anything about it.

Was he completely insane to think that he had at least deserved a hug for that? Or a pat on the shoulder at the very least? A "well done, son"? Apparently, he was, because he got nothing.

And then that thought was gone. He shouldn't be able to feel that way about himself. He had fucked up too much in his life for that.

So he swapped back into reality immediately, finding himself face to face with what was to be his future for as long as he lived in this town… Probably even longer.

If he ever got out… Sometimes he found himself doubting he would ever even graduate high school. He was already dead tired of it, how was he supposed to handle two more years?

"Noah, was it?"

The woman's eyes had lost some of the lustful expression now, but it was still obvious what she wanted, by the way she dragged back her shoulders, emphasizing her large breasts even more than she had earlier.

Sporting that same cocky grin, he gave her a short nod. "Mrs. Johnson," he said, his tone just a little too seductive to be appropriate.

Licking her lips as if in a candy store, the woman stated: "Call me Abigail."

Okay, so she was hot, he had to admit that. Hell, he actually didn't even have a hard time admitting that.

There was some sort of a silence, not completely comfortable, but not totally uncomfortable either, settling between the two, before the woman gave a short giggle along with a short jerk with her head in direction of a small "house" right by the pool.

"Pool house's right over there," Mrs. Johnson said, flashing her white teeth for one short second.

Reflecting her grin, Puck followed her, eyes glued, what he thought was subtly to her well-formed ass. Damn, she must be working out, keeping a body like that at over forty.

His mom was forty… He shook the thought. What did she matter? It's not that she cared about him anyway.

The woman led him to the pool house, unlocked the door and went inside. It was pretty dark in there, but he could at least see the pool toys and the net he was going to need. Suddenly he felt the woman's long fingers tracing his inner thigh, starting a few inches above his knee, going slowly further up. His breath caught in his throat and he could feel his pants get uncomfortably tight.

The woman leaned in, way too close for it to be appropriate, but Puck was in no way complaining. This was getting really fucking good. This woman didn't need any reassurance that everything was okay, like the chicks in school needed all the time. This woman knew what she wanted and went for it, blunter than he ever had done himself. God, it was so fucking hot.

Letting her lips graze his ears ever so softly, she whispered a little hoarsely: "I know why you're here, baby…"

Just barely suppressing a moan, Puck could just flash the woman a weak grin, not even sure if she was able to see it in the dark that was surrounding them.

The woman nodded vaguely, apparently agreeing with herself about whatever. _Damn, she must _really _be lonely. _She leaned back just a little, now standing within a somewhat more decent distance. Her hand was still sliding up and down his inner thigh, painfully close to his hardening manhood.

The sunlight for one split second made itself known through a crack in the wall, revealing the woman's seductive smile, as she casually asked: "Is it true you've bedded the entire cheerleading squad in your school?"

Puck felt his eyes widening for a second, and he found himself wondering how the hell this woman knew that, but he just figured they were living in the smallest, lamest town ever and that here everyone just knew everything about everyone. That was something he just had to deal with. And besides, who said that was a bad thing? Experience was always good, wasn't it? Although he had to admit, right then and there, that wasn't exactly something he was completely proud of.

Coughing slightly, trying to make his voice work probably, he answered: "Pretty much," putting on the best suggestive smirk he could manage given the somewhat bizarre circumstances. He didn't bother mentioning that Quinn Fabray and a couple of freshmen were the only ones on the squad he hadn't gotten into bed with. Yet. He was pretty sure it was going to happen sometime soon.

All of the cheerios were still in the celibacy club though, which was pretty much the weirdest thing ever.

The older woman in front of him twirled her tongue around in her mouth, the same lustful expression remaining in her eyes, at the realization that yes, Noah Puckerman really was just as promiscuous as the rumor had it.

"A boy with experience," she said, and Puck just then realized she sounded like she was taken straight from a low-budget 80's porn movie. Oh yes, he had seen them, and that was not a good thing.

In a brief second he imagined what this woman must have looked like when she was younger. Sure, she was still extremely good-looking for her age, but for just one brief moment, Puck could imagine she was one of those women who had just sort of always looked the same, solely due to the fact that they had decided sometime way before he was even born that they simply were meant to stay forever young.

The thought disappeared just as soon as it came approaching, and Puck could only wonder how the hell he managed becoming so deep all of a sudden, under these circumstances, nonetheless; he was pinned against a wall in a dark pool house, with a hardening erection in his pants and a woman who was more than twice his age moving her fingers in a gentle, but firm pace across his inner thigh. And he could hardly see anything, which made the entirety of the situation even stranger.

But still, that was the thought that had just crossed his mind.

Maybe all of this would have been easier if he could just imagine she was younger? His age? Maybe then he wouldn't feel so damn nervous… Because yes, he was nervous. For what, he had no idea, but he was nervous. Or maybe he was just anxious… He didn't really know, he just knew he had a weird, sinking feeling in his stomach he had never had before sex before.

But on the other hand, if she had been younger, he wouldn't have got what he wanted from her. Scratch that. He wouldn't have got what he _needed _from her, if she was younger. Not entirely. He wouldn't have got that adult attention he was craving.

He didn't really know if he had downright misinterpreted what 'adult attention' really meant somewhere along the way that was his life, but the fact of the matter was, that didn't really matter. What mattered was that he got some kind of adult attention, and that should be good enough for him. He'd said it before, mostly to himself: That was all he was worth. All he deserved, at least.

The woman took a few slow steps backwards, the same lustful expression still consistent on her youthful, albeit very much mature features.

"Guess I'll see you after you're done then…," she said, and Puck thought she gave him a wink, but he couldn't be quite sure.

As she exited the pool house and walked back into her house, Puck was just left against the wall of the pool house for a few more seconds. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he grabbed the net from the shelf. _What the hell am I doing?_

His head was spinning, and he wasn't really sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He loved sex. Hell, what sixteen year old kid didn't? Puck even had more sex drive than any other sixteen-year-old boy he knew, and that was really, _really _saying something. He was known around school, and evidently also around Lima, as the school's/town's resident sex shark.

So he shouldn't be nervous, right? A little anxious, sure. He could allow himself to be anxious. But nervous? Oh hell no. He was Noah fucking Puckerman; he didn't have the ability to get nervous. There was no pity party to be thrown here.

He knew what he was doing. He'd bedded more people than he could count, there was no fucking way he was getting nervous now. What was the difference really, aside from the ones regarding the age? Age was just a damn number, for fuck's sake.

Besides, the age was really no big fucking deal, because he was sixteen years old, he reminded himself. No matter what anyone tried to tell, he was of legal age of consent in Ohio, so he was in the words of the law capable of giving consent just fine.

And what did it matter? Since when did he care about what the law said anyway?

Taking a deep breath, he completely willed himself to ignore the nervousness or anxiety or whatever it was that was blowing up from somewhere inside of him, before he walked out of the pool house to start cleaning the pool.

The minute he was by the pool he stripped out of his tank top. He knew he could perfectly well use the "it's so hot out here"-explanation as a literal excuse, because quite frankly, it was still late August, and no one had anything to complain about regarding the weather yet, but hell, he knew as well as Mrs. Johnson did that he might as well start the pre-foreplay, if that was even a word, right here and now.

The pool job in itself wasn't exactly the top most wanted profession of any person ever; it basically consisted in using the net to pull old pool toys out of the pool. Shit, there were pool toys. This woman had kids?

And Puck was about to fuck her.

The woman had kids and Puck was about to fuck her. Okay, so that sort of participated in making the former anxious feeling reappear. About a zillion questions entered his mind at the same time, most of them asking where the hell the kids were now and who her husband was.

His thoughts were interrupted as Mrs. Johnson came out with a couple of drinks. He had no clue what was in them, but if there was anything the uptight, lame people of Lima would consider 'dangerous', who was he to turn the offer down?

He gave the woman the same, maybe admittedly overly-used cocky grin. She had her sunglasses back on for whatever reason. _Who the hell puts on sunglasses inside?_

She still looked hot. Judging by her impressed smile, Puck knew she was taking in the sight in front of her. That was pretty easy to comprehend, even though the woman was wearing sunglasses. Oh yes, he knew he was hot. Who could blame her?

She handed him the drink, and Puck could only guess that she was regarding his exposed chest or abs or something. Maybe both.

"So…," she asked a bit more hesitantly than before (which wasn't really saying anything), - "Is that a nipple ring?"

Grinning a bit wider, he answered: "Yeah…," amused by the woman's impressed facial expression, - "I'm kinda rock 'n roll."

Sitting down by a table nearby, the woman started to sensually rub her body with sunblock or something. Taking a break for his work that he was very sure the woman intended for him to take, he decided now was the right time to check her out blatantly. Normally, one could wonder why the hell she found sunblock necessary, seeing as she probably was to enter the house, more specifically, her bedroom, and stay there for a good while anytime soon.

Suddenly this job didn't seem so bad. He kept regarding the woman as she started by her legs, moving her long, slim fingers with definite patience across her soft-looking skin. Puck found himself wondering how many middle-aged women in this godforsaken town wished they looked like her.

The woman stopped in her tracks all of a sudden and gave him a look. She smiled, a little wider than usual this time, and sat up straighter in the chair. Somehow she managed to make every movement sexy.

"All right kid," she said, keeping it a little more casual than she had been earlier that day, before she stood up, - "Your shift here is over."

There was a break. They both obviously knew very well what that meant and Puck found himself licking his lips in anticipation. His pants were already getting painfully tight, both at the thought and at the sight before him.

"Know what that means, right?" the woman asked, her voice a little more like a whisper now.

Oh, did he ever? He could only give her that same suggestive smirk he tended to have sported a lot that day. "Of course," he said as he got up.

The woman rose up slowly, and made a gesture for him to follow her inside. The fuck if he refused. Eyes glued to her ass, he walked behind her inside her home.

Her house was quite big, with lots of pictures on the walls. It was apparent this woman was the housewife of a so-called wealthy family. Puck's guess was that the 'man of the house' was some sort of business man of some kind.

What the fuck was he doing? He was about to have sex with an insanely hot, experienced cougar, and here he was wondering about her husband?

He quickly shook the thoughts that entered his mind about husbands or kids and what not, and followed the woman upstairs. The woman turned towards him and took off her sunglasses. Then she walked up to him, resting her hands on his chest. As her hands moved lower, he leaned down to nibble on her neck, grinning vaguely between the kisses as she let out a soft moan. Despite her apparent experience, she was very sensitive.

Her fingers trailed across his abs, and they slowly went to play along the waistband of his jeans. God, he was getting hard. Couldn't she just strip him off them and get done with everything? Didn't she have some husb… Don't think about him!

His breath caught in his throat as he felt the woman rub her hand up his inner thigh, brushing, ever so slightly mind you, by his aching hard-on. Puck pulled his lips away from her neck for a second, and he could see a weak grin appearing on the woman's face at his reaction. She was obviously getting more and more aware of the fact that she was about to fuck a teenage boy, and that didn't seem to bother her at all.

She let her soft hands go to the button of his jeans, as he started to reach for the straps of her bathing suit, ever so slowly pulling them down across her arms.

The woman popped the jean button open, and dragged down the sipper, relieving Puck of the excruciating tightness of his pants. She gave an impressed smirk as she realized he was going commando.

"Go figure," she mumbled, and he didn't bother asking what she meant by that. Fuck, this was no time for stupid questions.

The woman reached for his hand, the one that was currently pulling off the other strap, and his eyes widened just slightly by the gesture. It was a pretty odd movement. It just felt weird. Puck hadn't really been much of a hand-holder in the painfully short relationships he'd been in, let alone during his many one-night stands.

He didn't really know if the feeling he got from the gesture was a good one or a bad one. It felt a bit strange, but not necessarily in a bad way. It just felt a bit out of place given their circumstances.

"Touch me…," Mrs. Johnson whispered, her voice a bit hoarser this time. She was obviously turned on, and he found himself smirking at the effect he had on this woman.

Without warning she dragged his hand across her own body until she bluntly placed it between her legs. Puck could only let out a short gasp at how wet she was, and then he smirked. Oh yeah, he definitely had it in him.

The woman moaned softly as he moved his fingers past the thin fabric that was the bathing suit, and slowly pushed one finger inside of her. God, she was soaking already. Mrs. Johnson grabbed onto his shoulders instantly as he began to thrust his finger in and out of her at a steady rhythm.

Still, he kinda wanted to get her naked and fuck her brains out soon, because even though he had been stripped off his pants, he was still sporting a hard-on that wouldn't take care of itself.

As if she had read his mind, Mrs. Johnson brought her right hand down to his cock and wrapped her fingers around him, starting to jerk him off. His breath caught in his throat, and he couldn't help but let out a low moan at the sensation. God, this was a much needed feeling. He pulled his finger out of her quite slowly, and removed the rest of her bathing suit.

Mrs. Johnson whimpered at the loss of his fingers, but she didn't stop pumping his dick with definite certainty and experience. After she had given a good number of pumps to his dick, she finally motioned for them to get on the bed.

"Lay down," she said, her voice still barely above a whisper.

Grinning, he did as he was told. Taking on a somewhat more submissive role in bed was something he usually only did with Santana and a few of the seniors. It was definitely a rarer opportunity.

Of course, under these particular circumstances it made total sense.

He did as he was told; laid down on his back, as the woman looked him over with an impressed smirk. "God, it's good to feel young again," she muttered, and Puck was sure that wasn't really meant to be said out loud, but it didn't matter. He made her feel good, and he knew that definitely made him a total pussy, but that was a pretty damn good feeling. God, what the fuck was he thinking?

Thankfully, Mrs. Johnson stopped him in his track as she wrapped her skilled, plump lips around the tip of his dick. "Fuck…," he hissed as he felt her working her lips around his dick, licking the tip in the process.

Grabbing her hair gently, he felt her humming around him in appreciation as she went deeper, taking his entire member in her mouth. Man, you didn't find many high school girls skilled enough to do that. He could get used to this.

She continued bobbing her head up and down, and he couldn't help but let out a loud "oh my fucking GOD!" at the sight of her flushed cheeks sucking him off as if she was trained to do it.

He could almost feel her smiling around him at his reaction. He was just about to buck his hips up to meet her movements, as she removed her mouth from his dick, leaving a somewhat obnoxious 'pop' as she did so.

He had to bite his lip not to whine in frustration, but his disappointment quickly faded as she stood up on her knees and placed herself on top of him. His cock was standing to attention, and he licked his lips at the realization of what was about to happen.

Taking his cock in her hand, Mrs. Johnson led it to her entrance, and slowly got down on his dick with a loud yell of: "Oh my god!"

Puck could only bite his bottom lip and still not being able to hold back the moan that escaped him. Another thing that was good with an experienced woman; she was far from a virgin, so he could fuck her as hard and fast as she wanted without breaking her.

And boy, was this time to take advantage of that situation!

On instant he began rocking his hips at a steady rhythm, meeting her thrusts as she began riding him. Both their moans filled the air, her high-pitched ones a fierce contrast to his low ones. "Ooh… Faster," she whimpered above him, and he didn't need to be told twice; he grabbed a good hold on her hips, hard enough to bruise, probably, but she didn't seem to care, so neither should he, and thrust into her, harder and faster.

Mrs. Johnson was no longer capable of screaming regular words. She just filled the room with 'ooh's' and 'aah's', and who was he to judge? The only words that remained in his vocabulary as the woman rode his brains out, were 'oh' and 'fuck'.

The woman let her hand go to his chest all of a sudden, probably to back herself up again as she was completely losing it. "Noah…," she whimpered, and fuck, that did him in! He thrust into her a bit harder, and he swore he would never be able to move properly after this. "Noah… I'm gonna…"

He couldn't speak properly at the moment, so he just shifted his grip on her hips for better access as he thrust into her with total abandon. And fuck, he was close to. He felt the woman clench around him as she rode out her orgasm with a serious of obnoxious yells escaped her, and seconds after he erupted inside of her with a loud moan.

With a soft, breathless sigh, Mrs. Johnson slid off his cock. "God, that was good," she sighed, completely out of breath. Despite her current state, she was calming down quickly, almost totally back to her old, composed self. "Wish my husband could fuck me like that…"

She gave him a grin and lit a cigarette, before she stood up and put her underwear on. "Did a good job, didn't I?" Puck asked, needing some confirmation of some kind. He was still panting, and he felt the sheets sticking to his body. Damn, he needed to do this more often.

Mrs. Johnson gave a chuckle. "Hell yeah…," she said, obviously trying to come off a bit younger than she was.

There was a long pause between them, somewhat awkward. Puck wasn't really sure what to do next. The woman had gotten up, and was standing by the bookshelf that was in the bedroom, dressed up in her underwear. There wasn't really much he could do.

As if on cue, the woman sighed and said: "You need to leave now."

Okay, so maybe those words did sting a little more than they should. It wasn't like he was sporting lady feelings or any shit, but come on. He was just barely getting his breath back.

"I mean it," the woman said, a bit more serious this time, - "You did what I'm paying you for, and fuck, I'm gonna tip you good here. But you need to leave now."

Sighing, Puck sat up in bed, trying to seem like he was pretty indifferent about her decision. Still, she could have at least lied? Said something about her husband being home any minute.

Still, he didn't really sign up for this for anything but pool-cleaning a good fuck, so…

"Fine," he said, with a grin he hoped seemed real.

Putting on his underwear and jeans as if on autopilot, he made a motion that was supposed to point towards the pool outside. "Forgot my shirt out by the pool."

The woman chuckled, revealing those white teeth of hers. "Better go get it then," she said.

Sporting yet another grin, Puck got up, wincing as he did so… Damn, he would be feeling this for a few days. He could live with that. Mrs. Johnson followed him out to the garden, the woman bringing her wallet with her in the process. Puck picked up his shirt and put it on, and then turned to the woman who stood there with her wallet ready.

"I'll pay you…," she said, dragging on her words, seeming to think about it, - "14 bucks for the pool-cleaning…" She raised her eyebrows, obviously thinking that wasn't a very big deal. Puck couldn't do anything but agree. "And…," she said, giving him that same seductive smile she'd been sporting all day, - "For your other kind services…" as if planning a punch line, she pulled a small wad of cash from her wallet, - "You did great. I'll give you 30. Keep the change."

He didn't really know what he should say, but that being said, he didn't know if this was a good deal either. People usually made a lot more said 'services' that he had been giving, but that was a thought he shook quickly. He wasn't a fucking hooker either.

Besides, he could see it as a tip… A tip that was twice the prize of the job itself… Grinning, he tried to sound enthusiastic: "Gee, thanks Mrs. Johnson!"

Mrs. Johnson gave him a playfully scolding look. "Abigail."

Puck gave a short nod. "Right."

And by that he walked out of Mrs. Johnson… Abigail's house, and got into his car, ready to drive away, letting his mind spin for a few moments.

He should be satisfied, right? He got what he'd come for. Some adult attention. Or affection… Then why the fuck did he feel so damn empty? Maybe because he hadn't really gotten any affection, after all. Sure, he'd gotten one of the most mind-blowing fucks he'd had in a long while, but in spite of that, he didn't feel any different.

Oh well. He guessed he would just have to keep searching for said affection, at least for a little while longer, until he finally decided he wasn't even worth that.

Next stop: Mrs. Feldberg's pool.


	3. You Could Try to Tame Me

**A/N: Here comes the third chapter, guys! I wanna thank you all for your nice reviews. Good to know I have readers. Just so you know, this chapter kind of tackles the Acafellas episode, as well as the Preggers episode. It won't really revolve a lot around his job, but more around the start of baby gate and everything.**

**As much as I love him, Puck was kind of a jerk back in early season 1, so any of the homophobic comments I throw in here for him are not from my personal point of view. At all. If I were homophobic, I don't think I would have been watching Glee in the first place.**

**I am really sorry about the late update, I will try to get better, I promise.**

**Also, did you watch the new Glee episodes? They were good in my opinion, although people may or may not agree. The Puck/Jake moment of the second episode was sweet, though. Although I am kind of skeptical towards Puck's entire pool-cleaning deal, especially if he is gonna make a fucking living on it, all I could think was: Noah Puckerman got the hell out of Lima, Ohio!**

**Anyway; enjoy the chapter, ladies and gentlemen! It's a long one.**

The sudden rejection he got after every lay was a little, if not upsetting, at least not an entirely good experience. However, it was nothing he couldn't get used to. And he got used to it quite quickly.

He just had to become conscious of all the unwritten rules that followed this profession, and really, those rules didn't exactly interfere with the sexual habits he was used to on private terms.

Sex was sex. That was what he was paid to do, basically (plus the 14 bucks for the pool-cleaning if that could even count). He was paid to give those women what they wanted, and hell, if he got off, then who was he to complain?

Noah Puckerman wasn't one to complain about getting laid. Period. He was Noah Puckerman. Him not having sex was like a vegetarian lion. It was a total waste. So why the fuck was he whining like a bitch about it?

And it wasn't like he wanted to be rejected. He had gotten that experience on too close a hand too often in his life to let that happen again. And if he didn't want rejection, he had to settle for what he got, even though it wasn't much.

He hadn't deserved much more, he reminded himself. He probably wasn't even worth much more either.

That realization, as depressing as it might be, also served to keep him grounded. If he was one to talk about chick things like feelings and shit, he would have said that he kind of liked that feeling.

He shook the thought. Enough with the wallowing. This was pretty much the best deal he could get in a small-town like Lima. Hell, he was envied by his classmates and teammates, he knew that much. The entire school pretty much looked at him in awe and envy because of his profession.

Sure, they didn't know all the details of it. There was no way for them of knowing, seeing as they weren't in said position themselves. But they knew the general essence of it, and to them it seemed like a dream come true for a teenage boy.

Speaking of his classmates and teammates. He knew very well that there was a probability that he had already slept with several of said friends' moms. It should probably bother him, but it didn't, for the most part. Sure, he thought about how he could be the one to break their assumedly happy families apart. But how much did it matter? He had a pretty broken family himself, and he turned out okay…

Yeah, he could keep telling himself that.

The first time he knew he slept with a teammates mom, was only a couple of weeks into his business. He now had four regular pool clients, and luckily he had no personal connection to any of them. They all knew someone who knew someone of course, but that was the prize to pay living in a small town that seemed pretty much abandoned by life.

That was sort of when it all started seeming less than perfect as well.

He had cleaned her pool in quite a hurry, before they'd taken the business to the bedroom. This woman was extremely position-fixated. She was flexible as hell. Puck just knew she was a cheerio once in her youth. He'd banged enough of those to know them when he saw them. And this woman was most definitely a former one.

He didn't complain… At least not until he ended up with her in his lap, with his gaze turned to one of the pictures on the wall. A picture of Daniel Higgins.

_Damn, should have known._

He had to squeeze his eyes shut just to avoid the thought of what he was doing. Fucking the mother of one of his team players. That was a little low. He lowered the thrusts of his hips a bit, without really even noticing, but he didn't get away with it for long. The woman gave a quick slap to his left cheek as she noticed his sudden mental absence.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" she asked, her voice heaving.

The slap kind of shook him out of it, and he muttered a 'sorry' before quickening the pace of his hips again.

**XXXXX**

He had slept with one of his teammates' mother. That was the only thought that struck through him as he drove home. To be honest, thinking about it made him a bit nauseous. Sure, it had been quite an adventurous experience, but the fact that he could be the one breaking his supposed friend's family apart… He was an asshole, but fuck it, he wasn't cruel either.

He had a conscience. And it was struck by some heavy guilt when he overheard Daniel casually telling him his parents were considering getting a divorce a week later after football practice.

Despite having had a father who bailed, Puck didn't really know much about this entire divorce process. His parents had never gotten a divorce. His dad just left, and he only saw him again once, when he was 13.

Still, he didn't want parent loss in anyway on his worst enemy. And Daniel wasn't really a bad guy. Not at all actually. So he figured he just had to ask, after having muttered out an 'I'm sorry' that he didn't really think came out as sincere as he'd hoped: "Your dad, is he… Moving out?"

He tried to play his games subtly for once.

Daniel nodded. "Yeah, I get to see him whenever I want, though… Don't know all the details of it yet."

Puck let out a sigh of relief he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Well, that's good…," Puck said, hesitating for a moment, figuring the least he could do was being supportive, - "That you get to see him a lot."

Daniel gave him a weak grin and a short nod. "Yeah," he agreed, and he didn't really have to say more. He knew what Puck was thinking.

The entire town of Lima just magically knew that Puck's father had bailed on them. The thing was, instead of showing sympathy towards Puck about the manner, the general attitude of the population of Lima went like this: "And not to mention that son of his; he's gonna end up just like his father, if not worse. Poor Rebekah."

Yeah, poor Rebekah. Poor Rebekah, who had done nothing but get drunk off her ass ever since her husband left. Occasionally mistaken her son for him and started throwing things and hurling insults at him. And when she was sober, usually ignoring him.

He was grateful she never did any of those things to Sarah… Well, she tended to ignore her as well, but she wasn't that bad when it came to her.

But still, having Daniel, the boy whose life he had wrecked having a facial expression of sympathy towards _him_… That was wrong on so many accounts.

For a brief second he wanted to spill it. Come clean. That way there would at least be no stupid misunderstandings. But he was too much of a coward to do that. He could still ask…

"Not that it's my place but… What happened?"

He knew that wasn't really a question you were supposed to ask, but he tended to be blunt like that. Manners weren't really his style. He just needed to know if Daniel's mom had said anything about him.

Daniel shrugged. "Nothing special, but I think mom pulled the first card.

Puck nodded slowly. Made sense. He figured he would be better off not confessing. It wouldn't be good for the team, and it wouldn't be good for him if he did.

**XXXXXX**

To be honest, the incident with Daniel's mom did take a hold on him in some ways. So to even things out a bit, he decided to start fucking girls his own age again. Not instead of the pool-cleaning business, of course, but along with it. High school girls weren't so bad…

Especially not Quinn Fabray.

In the aftermath, everyone knew how that story played out. Or, everyone thought they did. They all thought he took advantage of Quinn, that she was dead drunk… Someone went far enough to say that he raped her.

He didn't.

She called him up one day and started ranting about Finn. His best friend had joined the Glee Club recently, and while Puck had been resistant at first, they'd had a good time when they joined the Acafellas together… If you leave Mr. Ryerson out of the picture, of course. So he was kind of cool about it now.

He actually really liked Quinn. Not that he had any really, truly emotional feelings for her, but she was a cool chick. And she was gorgeous. Not just hot. Simply beautiful. And that took a damn lot from Puck to think about anyone that way.

Even though Puck was okay with Finn joining the Glee Club, Quinn wasn't that much of a fan. Sure, she had joined herself, but only to keep an eye on him. She was afraid she was losing him to Rachel Berry. Honestly, Puck didn't think she had anything to worry about. Not because of the girls' differing physical appearances; they were both hot in their own ways, but Rachel was frankly insane.

He made sure to tell Quinn this, but for some reason she still didn't feel convinced. She was sure there was something between the two.

As if on cue, she asked him: "Wanna come over?"

He didn't really know what she had in mind, but she did say her parents were out, and that she didn't really feel like being alone.

Usually, that only meant one thing. So he'd said yes. He'd also told her what made him feel better when he was a little down. And that was really saying something, because Noah Puckerman even admitting to having hard times in his life was a rare occurrence.

"What?" Quinn had asked.

"Alcohol," had been his simple reply.

"Bring some, I think I need it."

So he showed up on her terrace about an hour later, with a basket he borrowed from his mom and a bunch of those pink wine coolers he'd seen chicks bring to parties (and pretending to be way tipsier than they really were). Couldn't let the girl get too sloppy.

In his heart he knew it was wrong, but on the other hand, Noah Puckerman kinda lost his sense of right and wrong somewhere back there in the past a long time ago.

He fucked up. Constantly. Also when not meaning to.

One thing led to another. And it ended in Puck sleeping with his best friend's girlfriend. When they were done, Quinn gave him an odd facial expression. She looked vulnerable, but at the same time so very determined. More mature than Puck had ever seen her. _God, she was gorgeous._

"This was a mistake," she said softly but surely, and Puck couldn't agree more. He wasn't even hurt or offended by her words, as he, dared he admit it, had been earlier when girls and women had told him that. Because the girl beside of him was right. He had fucked up majorly. He hadn't just taken this girl's virginity, which in itself wasn't really a crime. But he had taken the virginity of not only the president of the celibacy club, but also the girlfriend of his best friend.

"Shit…," he muttered, - "You're right."

Quinn sighed again, as she got up and put on her cheerleading uniform. "You need to leave," she said firmly, and Puck slowly put his clothes on. Quinn stalked over to her mirror and started combing through her hair, before repairing her damaged ponytail.

As Puck was fully dressed and ready to head downstairs, he turned to her. "You're okay though, right?"

It wasn't really his thing to be concerned, but hell… He had taken girls virginities before, and from what he had heard, it would always hurt a bit the first time. Plus, for girls it always was meant to be something special or whatever.

This had not been special, he was sure about that. He suddenly felt a little bad for lying about protection, but hell. He had never used it before, why should anything bad happen now?

She turned to him with a smile. Not the wicked, bitchy cheerleader, fake smile she sported in school, but a soft, real smile. Puck figured he liked that smile.

"Yeah," she nodded, - "Yeah, I'm okay… But no one can know about this."

Puck nodded. "Noted."

"I'm serious, Puck," Quinn said, and now she was firm again. She was kinda scary when she was stern. But it was hot at the same time, - "You can keep a secret. Right?"

Puck gave her a grin, but it wasn't every bit as cocky as it used to be. "Babe…," he said, - "I'm already keeping secrets all over Lima. I can keep this one as well."

Quinn nodded. "Good," she said, - "Then we forget about this."

Puck nodded. "I agree."

As he was about to head out, Quinn stopped him in her tracks. "Puck, wait…," she said, and her voice suddenly sounded a bit more vulnerable.

"Yeah?"

She sighed. "_Was_ this just a regular hook-up for you?"

Puck had to think about it for a while. Had it been? Sure, he'd said it hadn't before they'd done it, but he wasn't entirely sure if he had wholeheartedly meant it or if he'd just said it to get in her pants. He suddenly remembered it was kind of douchy to have pushed her once she said she couldn't do it. But hell, it wasn't like he had forced himself on her either. She had said yes, and seeing as her eyes didn't flicker and she didn't slur on her words, she couldn't have been that tipsy either.

But had this just been a regular hook-up? Oddly enough it didn't feel like it. Something in this entire ordeal felt… right, however fucked up that was. Quinn had been the only high school girl he had banged in a while, and it had felt good. Not just because he got off, but because she hadn't made him feel totally worthless.

It kind of felt like something was changed.

"No," he stated, looking sincerely at her. "No, it wasn't."

She gave him a weak smile and a nod. "Good."

There was an awkward silence, before Puck dared ask, his cocky tone and facial expression back in place: "Was I any good?"

Quinn couldn't suppress a soft chuckle, and Puck could never know for sure with her, but it seemed and sounded real. "We're not talking about this, Puckerman," she said, but there was a teasing tone to her voice, -"Now get lost."

He did as he was told.

**XXXXXX**

Yes, it was true. Noah Puckerman did join the Acafellas. And it was a nice way of expression, if he should allow himself to talk gay for a short amount of two seconds. He was a good singer, and he could play guitar. He knew that. He taught himself too. Sure, his dad could play the guitar too, but he never "wasted his time" teaching his son.

So he taught himself, and he was pretty good as well, dared he say it himself. So Mr. Ryerson aside, it was a good experience. And not only because of all the moms. He couldn't really explain what it was, but it felt good. He liked it. He might even like it better than football, if he dared being honest with himself for a few seconds.

And it earned him five new pool clients. Five. In Lima fucking Ohio. That was a pretty good deal.

No matter what everyone else in that town thought, Puck did have ambition. And he was gonna get out of there sometime. But a football scholarship and college wasn't really something that was on his agenda. It wasn't his style. But there was no way in hell he wasn't gonna make it out of Lima.

Puck was in a good place right now. The pool-cleaning business, while not doing wonders for his self-esteem, was going, and he had discovered a passion that had been in him for a long time.

But that, of course, as everything in his life, wasn't gonna last very long…

**XXXXX**

"Quinn is pregnant, she's keeping the baby."

And by that, his world fell apart. He thought it was pretty weird, but the first thought that came to him was: _And she is pretending Finn is the father, when clearly the baby is mine?_

He knew he was supposed to be freaking out over the fact that he was possibly gonna become a baby daddy at sixteen and that his future was ruined… But what future?

Or he should be relieved as fuck that Finn was already being cast as the father, and that he didn't have to do anything himself.

The problem was he wasn't. Pulling out of this would, if possible, only make him feel even shittier about this entire business…

And that was when he started freaking out: He couldn't bail. He couldn't just go on and pretend that Finn had a baby on the way and not him.

He could not be his father. He could not abandon his child.

But most of all, he had to get out. He had to get some air. There was no way he was gonna be able to stay there any longer.

So he didn't change out of his football outfit. He just got out, got into his truck and slumped down by the steering wheel.

Finn would probably wonder why or what was going on, but at the moment that didn't really matter. Puck knew it was wrong to think that way, and he knew that Finn hadn't done anything wrong either (fuck, he hadn't even had sex with the girl), and he also knew that if anyone was to blame her, it was himself. And Quinn. Not Finn, but in his mind, the only thought he could have right now, was that Finn was the one fucking this shit up.

Did he want to be with Quinn? He didn't know. Maybe? He liked her, that was for sure. Did he love her? Did he even know love? Why was he getting so fucking deep up in all this misery?

So he cried… He didn't really know what did it, but something within him just broke, and a sob escaped him, followed by tears that couldn't seem to just stop.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd broken down. Had probably been a really fucking long time ago.

Why couldn't he do anything right? Was he that much of a fuck-up? Was he so worthless the mother of his unborn child would risk lying just so he wouldn't have a chance to come near the baby? Was he that useless?

Oh fuck, this wasn't about him anyway. This was about his child, who he was about to abandon. He was about to become his father already, and he had just turned sixteen. And that killed him.

As if on cue, his phone gave a buzz, and he let out a strangled groan as he looked to see who it was. He nearly head-butted the steering wheel in frustration when he figured it was Mrs. Fuller. She was one of his earlier pool clients. The third one, exactly, after Mrs. Johnson and Mrs. Feldberg. Why the fuck were all those women married? Never mind.

He really was not in the mood for banging cougars right now. Woah! Did he just think that? Well that was some breaking news Lima would never get over: Noah Puckerman not in the mood for banging cougars? What planet did they live on?

He chuckled bitterly, and started his engine, before pulling out of the driveway. Oh yes, he was headed for Mrs. Fuller's house. He did not want rejection, after all.

If he could only keep his mind off of Quinn and the baby for two fucking seconds, that would be nice.

**XXXXXXX**

Mrs. Fuller was the mother of one of the players on his opposing team for Saturday's match, he figured. If he hadn't been so fucking down, he would have thought that was totally perfect timing.

Right now, though, he had no fucks left to give. He just followed Mrs. Fuller's moves as if on autopilot, wanting everything to be over as soon as possible.

She had this getting caught fetish, which Puck kinda got. What he found rather fucked up though, was that she wanted to have sex in her son's bed. What kinda good could that do?

Still, he had to chuckle as he saw the boy's Star Wars sheets. Maybe if he played his games wisely enough, he could out his and his mother's little secret to him at the best moment. Psyche him out a bit.

He knew it wouldn't be fair play, and he knew the possibility of breaking this kid's family apart would be a risk but he didn't care. He didn't really care about anything anymore… Except for Quinn. And the baby. _Don't think about that now, you need those damn money!_ … (_You have a child on the way)…_

It hit him that he would have to speed up the pool-cleaning business just a bit if he wanted this baby thing to work. He knew Quinn was going to the grave swearing the kid was Finn's, and don't get him wrong, that thought tore at his heart more than what should be legal, but he would at least provide for her. Slip a few bucks into her locker at times, and so on. He was determined to do exactly that.

He didn't trust Finn on this.

He didn't really know how long his session at Mrs. Fuller's place took, but it seemed to be over before it even began to him. His sense of time was a little fucked at the moment, though.

Thankfully, Mrs. Fuller seemed satisfied enough. "You were good," she said dryly, as she grabbed her wallet and threw _(she actually fucking threw) _a wad of cash at him. That was his ticket out and his train was leaving about now, so he put his jeans and tank on and got out of there.

He had done a pretty good job not breaking down at her place, so he allowed himself to do so again once he was in his car.

He wanted to go somewhere. Mostly he wanted to go away, but that wasn't going to happen. He wasn't his fucking dad either. He shuddered at the thought. He was never gonna end up like him. Ever. He'd promised himself that long ago.

Too bad this entire town thought differently about the matter.

He knew one thing, though; he knew that he didn't want to go home. He didn't want to see his mother and her beer bottle. He didn't want to see the judgmental look she got in her eyes whenever she saw him, he didn't want her to be so drunk off her ass she mistook him for his dad, and he didn't want her to be passed out on the couch.

Usually at times like these, he went to Finn's place to play some videogames, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to look at Finn right now.

So he went home. He had nowhere else to go. He tried to keep it together during the ride home; driving with a blurred vision wasn't exactly the best idea, even he knew that.

**XXXX**

He came home, and was surprised to find everything the way he left it as he went to school in the morning. It was kind of weird, that the world was still turning and nothing had really changed outside of his head.

He took a few hesitant steps into the living room, to see if his mom was there, and to his surprise she wasn't. So he walked upstairs and opened the door to her bedroom. She was in the bed, the exact same way she had been as he had left for school. Sighing deeply he walked inside just to check if she was still alive.

He shook her lightly and she jumped and turned to look at him. She groaned and hid her head in her pillow again at the sight of him. He let out a deep sigh. Typical.

"Ma…?" he asked, and he knew his voice was dripping concern. He couldn't really help it; he did care about her, even though she apparently didn't care about him. He wasn't the only one in this world having gone through a shit load. She had too. And she was his mother, for fuck's sake. "Have you been in here all day?" His mind drifted to Sarah for a while.

"None of your business," the woman mumbled, and he tried to ignore the slight sting in his heart at her words, - "Just go away."

He nodded slowly even though she had turned away from him. "Okay," he said silently, - "Tell me if you need anything…"

"Just go."

He rolled his eyes. Even without knowing, she looked at him as the biggest fuck up there ever was. He walked into Sarah's room, and found her on her bed, apparently doing her homework.

"Hey," he said, pasting on a smile. He prayed it looked real.

He didn't really care how much of a pussy it made him, but his heart warmed up a bit at Sarah's beaming smile once she saw him. "Noah!" she exclaimed, as she got out of bed and ran towards him, tackling him into a hug.

There was just something about his sister that made life a little bit easier. He couldn't really explain it, but he just appreciated how she would never judge him for the awful things he had done – and did, on a daily basis.

He knew that if he accidentally was to burst out to his sister: "I am becoming a baby daddy", which he would never do by the way, his sister's reaction would be 'that's awesome, gimme the name and money for baby clothes' rather than 'look what you've done now, you fuck-up'.

"I'm hungry," the little girl said, once she let go of him, and he couldn't suppress a sigh. The poor girl probably hadn't eaten all day, because from what he gathered, their mother had spent her entire day in bed. That was when he remembered the money he'd earned from Mrs. Fuller's. He hadn't bothered counting them, but his sister's health was definitely something worth spending money on, along with the baby he had on the way. Even though Quinn would swear it was Finn's.

He put on a smile, and said: "Let's go grab something to eat, then."

Sarah beamed even wider, and she grabbed a hold on his hand immediately. It kind of pained him just a little bit how if he hadn't come home earlier Sarah might've had to go without food for the rest of the day.

Once seated in the car, everything kind of felt like normal for a few seconds. It was sort of an odd feeling, but not in a bad way. He gave Sarah a short smile, before asking her where she wanted to go.

Sarah gave him a concerned face, and he felt slight sting in his heart at her facial expression. He was supposed to be taking care of her, not the other way around. In a tone way too diplomatic for a six-year-old, the little girl looked at him and asked: "What can you afford?"

Sighing, he grabbed a hold of the money that was still in his pocket. With a somewhat sinking feeling in his stomach, he quickly counted them. 25… Sure, it was more than the pool-cleaning money in general, but fuck… 25? That wasn't fair, he had been more distant now than the other times, but fuck, he'd had shit to think about… As if she had cared.

So that's what he was worth, huh? He couldn't take care of a baby this way. Oh hell, he still had some money left from his last session. He would use them if they came in handy.

Shaking his thoughts he gave his sister a smile. "Enough," he said, hoping she would pick somewhere cheap.

A huge grin appeared on the little girl's features for a second, and Puck feared that look. It rarely meant good news. Thankfully, her answer was: "Can we go to Breadstix?"

Letting out a relieved sigh, Puck nodded his head yes. Breadstix was pretty cheap. "Maybe we'll run into Auntie Tana?" Sarah asked, with hope in her voice.

Puck was starting to get over that break-up, but knowing Santana at this hour, she was probably off somewhere getting off… Probably with Brittany. Still he just said; "Maybe", and give his sister a grin.

His sister liked Santana for whatever reason. That might have to do with the fact that the otherwise snarky cheerleader had been surprisingly sweet once she met Sarah.

There was a long silence as they drove off to Breadstix, and Puck hadn't noticed it really, but Sarah had kept an eye on him during the entire ride. "What's with your head today?" she asked bluntly, a frown upon her features.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Puck looked at her. "Nothing," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, - "Just thinking… Why?"

It wasn't like he was gonna blunt out to his sister that she was about to become an aunt before even turning seven.

Sarah shrugged, and now she looked a little less cocky than she usually seemed. Damn, she was her brother's sister, that was for sure. "You seem sad," she said, a bit more silently.

That was pretty much the understatement of the year, but Puck wasn't gonna tell his sister that. He just ruffled her hair, and said in the most normal way he could manage: "Don't worry 'bout me, alright?"

Sarah just gave him a blank stare. Damn, she was so fucking clever for her age it was exhausting.

"I mean it, Sarah," he said, trying his best to sound convincing. If he kept up his ordinary badass-persona at home as well, this would be a lot easier. Then the mask was already on. But with the mother the two of them had, he couldn't really do that, and to be honest, he didn't really want to either.

Sarah just nodded, but she still didn't look like she believed him. She switched subject pretty quickly, to his relief, as she insisted they'd listen to Hannah Montana. She kept the CD in his truck at all times, seeing as she drove in his truck more often than with her mom. That meant he kept a Hannah Montana CD in his truck, which was totally lame. Santana was the only one who had noticed, though. They were in his truck for a quickie during lunch break, and she had found it, laughed her ass off, but not really in a demeaning or particularly cruel manner like she usually would. He had just yelled at her that "It's my sister's not mine, and now you're killing my fucking hard-on", and she had yelled laughter.

Okay, so it was kinda funny looking back at it. Let's just say the quickie turned into a make out-session and nothing more before the bell rang.

They arrived Breadstix, and to Puck's surprise there was no one there. He didn't really feel like meeting people right now anyway.

They ate their meal in a mood that seemed almost normal, but Puck could tell that Sarah, the smart girl that she was, still knew something wasn't quite right. And now he had her worrying. He had caused that concerned look on her little face, and he despised himself for it.

When they got home and went into their respective rooms, struck by the realization that (surprise, surprise) their mother was still asleep, Puck picked up his phone. At first he just lay there in bed, staring at it. He knew what he wanted to do. What was the right thing to do. Yeah, he was an asshole at times, but he still had some ethics.

The right thing to do was to call Finn, his supposed best friend, and ask him how the hell he was doing. Because he probably had it as bad as him now, seeing as he didn't know this entire 'teenage dad' thing he assumed he was going through was nothing but a fraud, made up by one Quinn Fabray.

He didn't really know if he could handle hearing Finn's voice right now, though, but he figured he had to do something, right? He wasn't really good with feelings and shit like that, mainly because people mostly assumed he didn't have any, but he could at least call him up and ask him how he was doing.

He made up his mind, and pressed the call button. The phone gave four beeps, before Finn picked up. If his groggy voice was anything to go by, the frankenteen had seen better days.

"'Sup Puck?"

"Hey man…" What now?

"What did you want?" Finn asked, and Puck could only assume he had been sleeping. Or maybe he was just dead tired. He wouldn't blame him.

Puck dragged his hand through his hair subconsciously, and asked: "Just checkin' up on you, man," he said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

There was a break, before Finn seemed to snap back to life. "Oh yeah," he said, trying to sound a little happier. It wasn't working. "Yeah, you kinda just ran off today, what happened?"

Puck shrugged it off. "Nothing, just had some shit to take care of…"

"Oh…," Finn said, and at least he sounded like he believed him more than Sarah had.

Puck gave a heavy sigh. "Look, I'm sorry man…," he said, hoping he sounded sincere, - "It sucks…"

_Oh, the irony._

"Damn straight," was Finn's short comment, as he let out a heavy sigh, - "I don't know man… I asked her about abortion and all that, and she's not having it…"

Puck had kind of assumed that, so hearing it confirmed didn't exactly make much of a difference. He didn't know how he felt about that matter, to be honest. An abortion would most definitely be the easiest solution, when it came to handling the entire situation, but when push came to shove, it would be the exact same outcome on Puck's part: He was gonna have to leave behind the kid that was secretly his own, one way or another. _He was go__nna be his father._

"Man… You there?" Finn had obviously been waiting for a response or something, and Puck had to get his shit together now.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm here. What were you saying?"

"I just… I mean, we didn't even have sex… I mean… This is so fucked up."

Puck let out a sigh. Finn was his best friend and all, even though he himself had pretty much shat all over that, as he did with everything, but he was a bit short on the brains sometimes. How the fuck had he thought this was gonna happen unless he had fucked the girl?

He had to roll his eyes, and was grateful Finn couldn't see him. "How did it happen?" he asked, attempting to keep the skepticism out of his voice, even though that was hard.

"Hot tub, a few weeks ago," Finn explained, and Puck knew that if he chose this particular moment to slap himself, Finn would hear it, and he would have to explain the truth to him.

Which was tempting. But nevertheless, he was not gonna do that. Whether he liked it or not, this was all in Quinn's hands. That was the one thing he could do for her up in all this mess. Make it her terms, and her terms only. She was gonna have it hard when this secret eventually had to come out, knowing her parents.

Sure, Puck's mom's parental skills were pretty controversial, but at least she didn't give two shits about him or what he was doing… She would probably throw her beer bottle at him if she found out, but she wasn't gonna find out, so he was pretty much safe.

"I see…," was all Puck could say to Finn. There wasn't really more left to say. If he let his mind speak for him now, he would blast the entire thing to his best friend, and that was something absolutely no good could come from.

He didn't really know what more he could say, to be honest, so he just gave a light cough and told his best friend as calmly as he could, without trying to make everything seem like some heartfelt moment or some shit like that. That was totally not his style. "Look, I'm here for you, man… If you need anything."

Usually he wouldn't have pulled that caring tone on anyone that wasn't Sarah or his mom, but this wasn't exactly a usual circumstance.

"Thanks," Finn said, and Puck knew he gave his dopy smile just right now, possibly attempting to be as okay as possible. Puck knew better than anyone how much of a lost cause that was.

There was an awkward silence, and that was totally not normal, because through their ten years of friendship, the two of them had never, not once, had an awkward silence, ever.

"See you around then," Finn said eventually, breaking that awful silence.

Puck nodded, before remembering that Finn couldn't see that. "Yeah," he confirmed, - "Take care."

Fuck, that was lame. _Take care? _Sounded like something his Nana could say. Oh, be it, Finn didn't seem to care.

They hung up, and Puck almost subconsciously walked over to his guitar, picked it up and started strumming a few chords. He didn't even know what he was playing, he was just playing. He needed some distraction, he figured, and he wasn't exactly in the mood for working out right now, unless the working out consisted in running away.

But he wasn't gonna do that. He wasn't gonna run away.

He continued playing until he was tired, put his guitar and practically collapsed on his bed, not bothering to change out of his clothes. It had been a long day.

**XXXXXX**

Okay, so talking to Quinn had only confirmed all his fears. She wanted basically nothing to do with him, said everything had been a mistake, which it, of course, had, called him a Lima Loser to his face, which, of course again, he was, and ran away.

Could he blame her? Not really, so what was the use in letting her words upset him, when he deserved them. They were true, as far as he was concerned. Only person who seemed to disagree was Sarah, and she hardly knew anything about his life outside their house's four walls.

The thing was; he wanted to get closer to her, and that wasn't gonna happen if she was gonna keep up this act much longer. So he was pissed.

Thanks to Hummel, they at least won the game against that team with the guy with the star wars sheets. He would never admit it out loud, but he had kind of underestimated the kid. Hummel, that is. Maybe he could ease down on his dumpster tosses a bit after this.

He still wanted to get closer to Quinn one way or another. He had to find a way to give her the money, and better yet, prove himself to her a little. Prove that he at least could be some sort of parent material. He wasn't his dad, after all. He was better than that. Just barely, but still. He wasn't going to run away from his mistakes.

As Sunday came, he went to clean Mrs. Feldberg's pool again, and she gave him 14 bucks for his pool-cleaning, and 20 for his extra services. 20? That was worse than ever. She had been whining about him being distant, and when he had tried to explain that he had a lot of shit going on, she had rolled her eyes and told him to get the hell out.

Yeah, it had stung but he shouldn't really have expected more. In fact, he slapped himself for being so stupid. He knew what they paid him for, all in all. And that wasn't talking.

Still, he wanted to give Quinn those 20, but she was being so prissy and whining about him that he didn't even know why the fuck he bothered. He knew she was going through some heavy shit, but she wasn't the only one suffering up in all this. When this secret came out, and trust him, it would, one way or another, she wouldn't only have hurt him, but Finn as well.

So yeah, maybe he did corner her and Finn in the hallway when that Monday came around and through some comment about how Quinn was putting on weight, and that everyone would soon know, because they wouldn't be able to keep her on top of that pyramid much longer.

What? It was true. Okay, so it was a little mean, but fuck. He was mad.

And oh, yes, that was true. He did join the Glee club. He didn't even know what got into his head. It was partly because he wanted to get closer to Quinn, of course. Because, yeah, fine, he kinda liked her. But what did it matter? It wasn't like she liked him. Besides, she as all Finn's, and Finn wasn't a screw-up.

That was his part to play.

At least he hadn't banged any of the Glee kids' parents. Maybe this could be some fresh start…


	4. Test Drive this American Male

**A/N: Hey guys. I know this chapter is super late, and I was planning on having it up a week ago, but I couldn't make it, because I got ill, and I know the chapter is a bit short… Anyway; here it is, and I hope you like it.**

**There is a bit of Santana in this chapter, because I love her, so that's where you have that.**

Granted, knowing he was, at least theoretically, about to become a father, took somewhat of a toll on him when it came to his profession. He simply wasn't allowed to see it as all fun and games anymore; he had to think more responsibly, and he had to rule his games wisely in all aspects of the job, if you knew what he meant. To be frank; it would have to become less about the pleasure, and more about the fact that it was a job.

He had heard people referring to him as the "resident man whore of Lima", and he didn't really know if that upset him or not. It probably upset him a lot less than it should, or it was just that he didn't really want to be faced by it, so he pushed it all inside… Either way; that was the last of his concerns at the moment.

When it came to Glee Club, Puck really shouldn't admit it out loud, but he actually happened to like it there. No one really seemed faced by how much of a fucking mess his life was the way everybody else in this town did, and while all sympathy, granted, was given to Finn and Quinn, it became in some ways the most relieving part of his day.

Damn, what the fuck had he become?

He hadn't really paid much attention to the word "prostitution" in his life. He didn't really know why, but it just didn't happen to be a word he could associate anything to. He immediately thought of girls in corsets, mini-skirts, fishnets and overdone makeup, of course, but in many ways he didn't really get what the big deal was: Sex was good. Money was good. So getting money for good sex just happened to be the best deal ever.

He hadn't really ever thought of his own profession as prostitution, though, maybe because he had an excellent way to cover it up, by referring to it plainly as his "pool-cleaning business". No questions asked. Besides, it wasn't like he _only _got paid for his other services. He got paid for the pool-cleaning too, it was just that the salary for the services on the side was much higher than the rates of the actual pool-cleaning.

People figured out, though, and he didn't really mind much. It wasn't like their attitudes were all that varied; people tended to be either disgusted or impressed. But he knew that they knew that yes, he gained money from sex, and that should probably make him feel even worse about himself than he already did, but the fact of the matter is it didn't. Did it make him feel better about himself? He didn't really know, but some sort of affection or whatever was always good, right?

He decided that it was. And he got money out of it, so who was he to complain? He figured that had been his general attitude towards a lot of things lately.

Still, he slowly came to notice that the line from resident sex shark to resident town whore was soon to be crossed, but he tried not to think about it.

He found himself wondering about his morals once when he sat in his car on his way to Mrs. Figler's house. When sober, his mom would always preach about morals. One way or another, her moral preaching usually revolved around his dating life. She wasn't totally clueless; she knew he wasn't a virgin, but she didn't know the true meaning of the word "pool-cleaning business" either.

Had he ever had morals when it came to his sex life? He didn't really know. Frankly, he hadn't been a virgin in a fair amount of years. Had he had any morals back then? Not enough, clearly, seeing as he, as a thirteen year old boy was parading the school hallways like he owned them, bragging about his limited but very much existing experiences in the bed room. At fucking thirteen.

No, he decided. He wasn't his mother. Sex had nothing to do with morals. It felt good, he did it for selfish reasons, pure and simply.

And why the fuck was he trying to analyze things? It was what it was. He was starting to sound like a freaking a girl about all this, and it was not cool.

What he was doing wasn't wrong. Simple as that.

**XXXXX**

The first time anyone questioned his profession, it was Santana Lopez. They were both in Glee Club together now, which meant that despite the fact that they weren't dating anymore and otherwise would prefer to spend as much time as possible apart, they were still forced to talk to each other basically every single day.

So they stayed in touch. This made Santana Lopez the first ex-girlfriend Noah Puckerman had ever stayed in touch with after the break-up. Not that the relationships were much to brag about in the first place.

He didn't really know what had brought it on, but as they were seated beside each other in Glee Club, Santana suddenly leaned over, and declared in that casual, somewhat monotone voice of hers: "You better be free today, Puckerman, because you're doing me in the backseat of your car after Glee."

Puck chuckled vaguely at her bluntness, but he had to decline her offer, as much as it pained him. Santana was pretty much the only sophomore at McKinley who knew what she was doing in bed. But still, he had a baby on the way now, and a pool to clean right after Glee rehearsal.

"Sorry, pools to clean," he answered, receiving an annoyed scoff from the girl beside him.

"Oh you do, don't you?" she asked, venom resting in her voice. Shifting in her seat, so that she was facing him completely, she continued her rant: "I'm gonna give you some tough love now, squirrel head: Not only am I able to fuck you better than all those skanky old women combined, but the fact of the matter is," she pointed her finger in his direction, just to emphasize just how serious she was. Not that it was needed; you pretty much understood all on your own when Santana was being serious. "That if the gender roles were reversed here, and you were a girl fucking around with old men, not only would her parents file a lawsuit, but the entire world would perfectly see how fucking _wro__ng _it would be."

For just one, brief second Puck thought he saw something human in Santana's impeccably put together façade. There was just something in her eyes and in the tone of her voice that told him she was… concerned? Was that the right word? He didn't really know. But the thought was gone about as soon as it arrived, and he just scoffed her off. She wanted in his pants. That was it, and he couldn't really blame her. Everyone did. Of course, that might or might not change as the year would progress and people eventually found out he was the one who impregnated the queen of the chastity ball, but that was another worry for another day.

Breaking through his thoughts, he heard Santana mumble something from beside him. She had shifted back again, and was staring right ahead, but it sounded a lot like: "It comes from a place of caring", but he couldn't really be sure… It didn't sound at all like something Santana would say, so he decided to not get his hopes up.

Fuck, was he messed up…

He really needed to just learn to be happy with what he had, or else he would flip one sweet day.

**XXXXXXXX**

Mrs. Figler quickly turned out to be one of his regular clients. One of the most loyal ones, so to speak, and she expected the exact same kind of loyalty in return. She was also one of his favorites. Not because she was particularly much hotter than any of the other cougars he had the pleasure of fucking every other day, but she was one of the physically best fucks he'd ever had. Plus, she paid well.

And high salary was definitely something he needed right now, if he was gonna be able to prove himself worthy of at least providing for a family. _He was not his fucking dad_.

It was kind of weird actually really _needing _the money. It kind of put everything in a different light, made him see it from a somewhat different angle. One thing was doing it for pure fun, or for whatever other fucked up mental motive he might or might not have had, but it was so totally different when he knew he actually had to do it.

He wasn't the brightest kid in the world; he didn't really know exactly _how _you provided for a kid that hadn't been born yet, but he just knew that if he could prevent any damage that could possibly be done to the unborn child that was in a freakishly weird way growing inside the head cheerio of McKinley High, he would do it in a fucking heartbeat. And it even surprised him how much he actually meant that.

So when Mrs. Figler texted him that afternoon, asking him to come clean her pool. Again. That would make the third time in two weeks, and it was really fucking insane, seeing as the fall was fast approaching, and it was getting too cold to use the pool anyway.

They knew where they had him now. He hadn't really thought of how to make this entire business work as the cold came along, but it didn't seem to be a problem. He was willing to bet whatever that he could show up at some lonely housewife's house at fucking Christmas day in tight enough jeans and everything would go according to plan.

He would have this job permanently up until after graduation, whenever in the future that would be, as far as he was concerned. At least that counted for something. At least it counted a whole lot more than it should now that he had a family to provide for.

Mrs. Figler was in for a quickie that night, and the pool was left all alone. That was actually the first time he had done a pool-client while the actual pool remained untouched. As he pulled the tight-fitting t-shirt over the older woman's head and pulled her breasts out of her bra, skillfully stimulating each nipple slowly between his teeth, he decided not to think too much about it.

It still was a somewhat odd feeling actually _needing _the money. He had never needed them before. Sure, his family's personal economy wasn't the best in Lima, and he sometimes found himself having to pay for some of Sarah's personal activities, birthday gifts for friends and things like that, but it was never anything heavy.

Now though, was different, and it was supposed to be, right? Like it or not, and lie about Finn or not, he actually had a fucking baby on the way. Seeing as Finn was still so fucking irresolute with no obvious determination to do the same, he would just have to let his body pay at least parts of what was to come.

Suddenly the business, however messed up it was, seemed like a better deal than it had in the first place.

He couldn't quite explain it, but all he knew was that he felt kind of pleased with himself as he left Mrs. Figler's house with thirty bucks tucked into the front of his jeans, that familiar numb feeling running through his body. He had finally gotten his head in the game again, and this time he wasn't letting it go that easily. There was no way back now, and that was how it should be.


	5. A Good Reason to Go

**A/N: Guess what, guys? I came over this comment about how Sam being a stripper was worse than Puck's pool-cleaning business, because Puck seemed to genuinely like the cougars he cleaned pools for. I guess I felt kind of uneasy as I heard that comment, but I don't really know why. Any thoughts?**

**Anyway, here's the fifth chapter! It mainly revolves around baby-gate. I have finally gotten rid of my writer's block, or so it seems, so that's a good thing! I think it has to do with November, this month is one of my favorite months. It relaxes me or something, I guess.**

**There will be a brief meeting with Puck's Nana here, and I kind of based her off my own late grandmother. I also get a tad**** too talkative here sometimes, especially while writing Puck's inner monologue or reflections or whatever I wanna call it, but I kind of like to explore his character that way. And to make sure to portray the fact that he isn't stupid.**

They say you haven't officially become an adult until you learn the difference between right and wrong. At least that was what Rachel had tried to force into his mind once right before temple, when they were ten. He hadn't really listened back then, but as years progressed, it actually had occurred to him how right she'd been.

And now, at age sixteen, Puck realized that yes, maybe he had finally gained some of that. Maybe he was in the process of becoming an adult, after all, because right now, he knew exactly what needed to be done on his part: He had to provide for his family. For real. In a, you know, more or less organized matter. And he wasn't gonna do anything halfway.

During the last months, the actually matter of his pool-cleaning business hadn't been spoken about. It was a common knowledge of many, but no one had taken their time to mention what was really going on. Not even him, he figured.

So it was sort of a major decision when he rang the doorbell of Mrs. Figler's house one Monday afternoon, only to walk straight into her living room, stating firmly: "Let's just cut the crap."

Raising an eyebrow at him, she asked: "Cut what crap?"

Giving a smirk as if he couldn't believe her, Puck answered: "We both know I don't get paid to clean your fucking pool. It's October in Ohio."

Giving a somewhat annoyed sigh, the older woman went to rest her hands on her hips. "What's your point?" she asked firmly, - "Not like you can bail now. With your reputation it's not like you can't amount to anything better."

"Not what I'm here for," he stated just as firmly, forcing her words to the back of his mind, trying to forget how much they stung. How true they were.

The woman's facial expression softened just a bit… or maybe it was just him wanting her to soften up a little? He didn't quite know, but something in her demeanor seemed to calm down, at the very least. "Then what?" she asked.

"Just hear me out, okay? You're gonna like it." He gave her the best seductive smirk he could, before dropping it when he realized it didn't really fit into this entire 'being professional for just a few seconds'-image he was pulling.

Mrs. Figler gave a smile now. "Oh…"

Puck just nodded, before he started talking: "Thing is…," he said, - "I need the money."

"We're not here for your personal life, Noah," Mrs. Figler cut.

"I know," he stated immediately, - "Just hear me out… I just came to say I know what this pool-cleaning business is about, and that there's no misunderstanding. And I came to say you can call me up whenever you want, for whatever you want. I'm yours exclusively. It's not necessarily gonna be just about the pool-cleaning schedule anymore."

The woman raised her eyebrows now, and if Puck was gonna pass judgment on her facial expression, he would label it one of utter excitement. "Really, now?" she said, sounding more than impressed.

"Really," he promised. "Anyway you want, anytime you want."

The woman looked satisfied, albeit a little skeptical. "Doesn't it usually have to be the other way around, within your profession?" At Puck's questioning glance she expanded: "I mean, that entire 'when, who, how much' deal?"

Okay, so Puck was not going to admit he knew the woman took that from Pretty Woman! He just gave a shrug. "It's how I do it now," he stated. Frankly, he actually didn't really know many people 'within his profession' in Lima. As far as he was concerned, he was the only one.

"Fair enough," the woman said, and now she looked completely satisfied with the decision. "And I pay you after how satisfying you are?"

Puck took a deep breath. "Seems fair."

"Done."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Puck made the same deal with all of his pool clients that week. He didn't really know how to feel about everything; in a way he felt kind of relieved, felt like something had settled with him somehow. He had organized everything, that meant he had some kind of control, right?

The clients seemed to be more than happy about his new ways, at least, and that counted for something. Them being satisfied usually ended in him being satisfied.

Everything was good. So yes, he did his job as best he could when the fall came and went. He guessed he found some comfort in it, and yes, he knew just how fucking pathetic that was. But there was just something about getting in his car as the dark started to fall over Lima, Ohio once he was done with school or football practice, and not having to go home right away.

He didn't really like being home. If he was to be totally honest, the only reason he even suffered through life there was because Sarah was there. He cared about his mother, sure, but really, she should have learned how to take care of herself by now.

He didn't know why, but sometimes he just had one word for his home life: Cold. And dark sometimes, too, especially when Sarah wasn't home, which she usually wasn't. He was happy about that, though. The thought that his six-year-old sister spent most of her time with friends or with their Nana rather than with their unstable, usually drunken mother, did relax him a little.

As he got in the car after football practice that afternoon, he found himself wondering why he couldn't be like his sister. Why couldn't he also find escapism in the comforting home of his Nana, or some of his friends, at the very least? And then he remembered that he had fucked about half of his friend's mothers, and the other half he had other issues with. Yes, the other half mainly consisted in the Hudson family. Out of all his friends' families, Finn's family was the one he had really allowed himself to get to know on a more advanced level. And Finn's family consisted of Finn and Mrs. Hudson just to be perfectly clear. And yes, he and Finn had some issues going on now. Because Finn was still the one who had been promised the fatherhood of a baby that wasn't his, but Puck's. And yes, it did sting a little to even look at Finn at the moment, just to be reminded of that.

When it came to his Nana, she was an amazing woman. And Puck didn't use the word 'amazing' to describe too many people, but with her it fit perfectly. When things got too hard with their family, she would help out. It had always been that way, ever since his father bailed on them, and her blatant helpfulness was really speaking volumes for itself, because the woman had just turned 80 years old.

Still, he couldn't really just go over to her place as often as Sarah did, because then his Nana would just start asking a lot of questions. And Puck didn't want questions. Thing was, while his Nana was awesome and very much a part of his everyday life, she didn't know _everything _that was going on when it came to her daughter. She knew she had taken her husband's sudden flight very hard, and turned to drinking that was a bit more than on an average level of heavy, but she knew no more. She didn't know about the hurling insults his mom would throw when things got real bad; how she always compared him to his father, and yelled about how he was no worth unless he could change about everything he was. Plus, the entire Jewish girlfriend thing. He was proud of his heritage and all, that wasn't it, but fuck, that it should define him that much was a bit depressing.

His grandmother didn't know about that one time with the beer bottle either; the time she had smashed it against his shoulder blade as he talked back to her.

Now who was it that resembled his father again?

Granted, she had apologized but while he'd stated otherwise, he'd had a hard time forgiving her. He guessed he could be grateful she'd never raised a hand to Sarah, but that was about it.

If his Nana knew about that she would do everything in her power to separate the children from their mother, and while that might have been a good thing, and while Nana's intentions would have been the best, it could possibly also lead to the separation of him and Sarah. And he couldn't, under any circumstances, accept that.

So yes, he dealt better without her questions.

But that also meant he dealt better when the warm house he could go to at those cold afternoons belonged to someone who only wanted him for rough fucking on her bed. Or her couch. Or in her kitchen.

And he was okay with that, because fuck if he wanted anything more to do with her either. Not really. Maybe he was compensating for something he didn't have, like Rachel or Quinn or someone had said some weeks ago, but how the fuck would he know? Who was he to know something he'd never had?

Today he was back to Mrs. Johnson. There was just something about her; the more times he fucked her, the bolder she became. And she wasn't exactly shy to begin with. Especially after the deal, she had taken advantage of all her liberties in the bedroom department. Who knew this small and wholesome-looking woman had a good pair of handcuffs lying deeply hidden in her closet?

Puck found himself shivering with anticipation at the thought of whatever else this woman was in the possession of. He liked that about her; her kinky side, he couldn't deny that. In a way, he liked giving up all his control like he did with the cougars. He never knew what they had in mind.

He wasn't an inexperienced guy for his age. Quite the opposite, actually. He had more sexual experience than any person his age he had ever met, but still, that didn't change the fact that no matter how boring, those cougars had more experience than him. And that thought never failed to turn him on.

He wasn't a stranger to bondage, really. Santana owned a nice pair of handcuffs on her own, and they had done a fair amount of experiencing with those, but it was something completely different when he had made it official that he was the submissive in this situation. Submissive… so not a word he had ever identified himself with before. He didn't know if he liked it or not. He guessed he did, or else he wouldn't be doing it, right? Thinking about it some more, he figured it was just a tad fucked up and pathetic, but yes, he definitely did like it.

If he was to see a therapist, which he wouldn't because they usually made you deal with things or whatever their problems were, and he didn't have time for any of that shit, but if he had, the therapist would probably bitch and whine and moan about how this 'pool-cleaning'-business of his was just a compensation for whatever childhood he reportedly was deprived of. Or rather; the parents he were deprived of.

Fucking bullshit. Sure, that could have had something to do with the matter, but it was far from the whole explanation. In truth, he didn't really believe in that saying: That one single event from your past defined who you became as an adult. All garbage. That was just something adults would try to tell you so they could get to sleep at night and get along with their own problems. So they could just stop caring about you, because they had it all figured out.

But why would anyone ever care about his so-called problems anyway? He was a fucking adult… at least as good as an adult; his problems from his past were just that. _From his past_. Might as well get the fuck over it. And he had gotten over them too, as far as he was concerned.

A voice that sounded an awful lot like Quinn tried to reason in the back of his mind: _You still live with those problems every da__y, Puck._

And he knew 'she' was right. He was. Literally. He was still living with his mother, and yes, it sucked sometimes, but fuck that shit. The point was that he did this completely deliberately. No one was forcing him to go have sex with older women for money. He did it because he wanted to. Because it was something he was actually good at.

And now, convenient as it was, he also needed the money. It was a good deal.

So it didn't matter that he spent a cold November night tied to Mrs. Johnson's bed. It didn't matter that she more than once vocally reminded him what a whore he was, that he was made for this. At least he had someone. Something. And as his body shook with the orgasm as Mrs. Johnson rode him like a woman possessed, it almost didn't matter that he had felt more than a little humiliated all the while since he got there.

**XXXX**

That day he decided to actually stay at his Nana's place for dinner with her and Sarah. But before that, he had to go home and check on his mother. He couldn't let the woman die either, just because he was whoring himself out to people her age. Some of them even her colleagues. Because yes, Mrs. Puckerman actually had a job. She just happened to call in sick quite a lot, and her working schedule wasn't exactly the busiest Puck had ever seen.

Seriously, his was fuller than hers. If things continued this way, he would have to pay more bills in the house, and then he wouldn't have enough money for the kid. He couldn't really let that happen.

Fuck… Sometimes he asked himself why it had to be so fucking complicated all the time.

His mother was seated in front of the TV when Puck entered his house that afternoon. "You're awake," he stated as he approached the living room.

"What do you want?" she asked dryly, as she tuned up the volume of whatever crappy reality show she was watching. Hell, even he had better taste in TV than she did.

"I'm going over to Nana's for dinner tonight," he stated, knowing she didn't really give a shit if he would leave and never return, - "You'll suit yourself, right?"

It took a while for the woman to reply, as she just sat there, caught up in whatever shit she was watching. "Do whatever you want, not like I care…," she said, and her face had some questioning traits to it. As if she wondered why he felt the need to ask her any permission in the first place.

He hated that. It was the living proof that she never had given a shit.

"Just making sure you eat somethi…"

"Get lost Noah, I'm trying to watch TV."

Nodding slowly, he got out the door about as soon as he'd come, and headed off to his Nana's place. Finally someone who gave a damn about him.

**XXX**

He was welcomed with open arms at his Nana's house, and he couldn't help but let out a relieved sigh as he leaned into her hug, taking in the homey warmth of her house.

The older woman slapped him lightly on the arm. "You're getting skinnier than my cousin Isidor was at Bergen Belsen. Sure my daughter's feeding you properly?"

Rolling his eyes, Puck could only decline her comments. He knew it was kind of fucked up, but he always admired the way the older woman spoke with such ease about the war. His mother always spoke about it as if it had been the apocalypse, which for many it probably was, but that really wasn't his mother's business, seeing as she had never lived through it.

His Nana was an inspiring woman that way. She dealt with the heavy thorns of her past, and brought them in to improve her future. Yeah… If only he had that strength.

"Here to pick up Sarah, I assume?" his Nana asked, and her face looked somewhat disappointed.

"Not right away, no," he said bluntly, knowing his Nana would be thrilled by the answer.

"Oh," she said, and she looked happier now, - "You two staying for dinner then?"

"Yeah, if that's okay."

"Okay?" the woman snorted lightly, - "I'm thrilled. I get to put some meat on those bones you're sporting."

"Called biceps, Nana," Puck stated matter-of-factly.

"Biceps, bones, you're getting skinny. Eat a burger or something. My daughter's never pressured you hard about the kosher meals anyway."

Truth was he would have loved to tell her. Would be thrilled to tell her everything; that yes, his mother was kind of in a low place right now, and yes, it was true he hadn't really eaten all that much lately, seeing as he used most his pool-cleaning money to pay for either his and Sarah's dinners or to save up for Quinn and their baby… Scratch that. Finn's baby. He wanted to tell her everything. But he couldn't.

So instead he just asked: "Where's Sarah?"

"Up in Rebekah's old room playing, I suppose. Help me set the table, will you?"

Grabbing three plates from one of her cabinets, he began to set the table. This was a nice form of escapism. Put his mind off of everything, even if it just was for an hour or so.

"How are you doing, Noah?" his Nana asked, and it was a question he couldn't back out of. Her voice was firm, but still concerned, and he found himself grateful for the way she spoke to him. She cared, he knew that, and it was a lovely feeling getting reminded of that sometimes.

"You seem… different."

Sometimes he really just felt like opening up to people, was that weird? Wanted what everyone else seemed to have; what Finn had in Mr. Schue, what Santana had in her mother… What everyone else had in their parents, or at least one or another adult person in their life who served them love and affection on a silver plate without having to put their faces between their legs.

He wanted to just open up to someone and be held for a while, without anything else expected to happen.

The only person he seemed to have in his life that would provide him of such privilege was his Nana, but he wouldn't. He couldn't do that to her. Telling her everything; making her deal with problems that were nobody but his to deal with. No. he just could not do it.

He got himself into his own mess. He made his bed. He should sleep in it.

"I'm good," he said, - "Just a lot to deal with, with school and all."

It was a compulsive lie. When had he ever given two shits about school?

His Nana scoffed. "Right," she said, but she said nothing more. She still kept a close eye on him for the next few minutes or so. She knew better, he knew that, but he was happy she didn't push for answers.

Right then, he heard footsteps coming down the stars, and then his sister was in the kitchen. "Noah!" she exclaimed, running into his arms. He never really got why she felt the need to hug him every time she saw him, but he sure as hell didn't mind.

"Hey, baby girl," he said, as he lifted her up, resting her on his hip. The girl was six years old, and it certainly wasn't needed, but fuck, he didn't really want to remember that she was growing.

"You smell like the perfume Shania's mom wears," Sarah stated matter-of-factly.

A bit dumbfounded, Puck just let out a dry chuckle, before he put Sarah down on the kitchen floor again. He had totally forgotten that Mrs. Johnson was the mother of one of the girls who went to school with his sister. He suddenly felt sick.

Putting a large plate of vegetable cheese lasagna in front of him, his Nana firmly stated that he'd better eat all of it. It probably looked delicious, but he had been deprived of all appetite.

Sarah dug in, but she stopped midway, and spoke with a large amount of lasagna in her mouth: "Are you ill, Noah?"

She mostly sounded skeptical, but there was some concern hidden in there somewhere. Another person who cared. Didn't hurt to hear from a few people. Too bad he didn't even seem to care enough to scold her from the messed up version of the adult world that he found himself working in.

Smiling slightly at her, he answered: "I'm fine," before he slowly devoured a piece of his lasagna. And then it dawned on him that he hadn't eaten all day, it was six pm, and he was really fucking hungry.

As he and Sarah left their Nana's home that day, the older woman encouraged them to not be strangers, and she made a promise that she would build herself up and go visit their place sometime before Hanukkah. Puck could only pray his mom just happened to be sober when that day came, or he would have a lot of explaining to do.

**A/N: Okay, so I was planning on making it longer, but in all honesty, this seemed like more of an appropriate ending. Next chapter will revolve around the Wheels episode and December in general. Stay tuned!**


	6. Silent Nights

**A/N: New chapter! Okay, so this is a bit later than I had planned, because I scraped together a one-shot in the after-haze of the Dynamic Duets. I had to, couldn't help myself. Thanksgiving was a sweet episode, but don't get me started on Quinn… Seriously, don't.**

**This chapter, at some points, was painful to write. I am kind of happy about it, though. This revolves around the Sectionals episode of season 1, and this is where Finn finds out that Puck is the father of Quinn's baby.**

**I put in some Quick here, I guess, because I want this story to stick as true to canon as possible. I do believe that Puck was in love with Quinn, but I have my doubts as to whether or not she was in love with him.**

**Other than that: Enjoy!**

As December came along, the rumors started running. He didn't really know whether or not to be all that faced by them. Mostly, they were flattering, right? His sex shark reputation was going through the roof, and for as long as no one knew he had been the one who knocked up Quinn Fabray, the girls of Lima would still be at his feet. Granted, they all called him a whore, either behind his back or far less discretely, but he figured that didn't matter much either. It was pretty fucking true, and why the hell should he care? Why did _they_ care? They already knew he was a sex shark, was this then surprising or something?

It shouldn't be.

Okay, fine, so maybe it did matter just a little bit. It sucked to be reminded of his profession every day of his life. _So it was a profession now? Huh, interesting._

The only person he for some reason didn't mind confronting him about it, was Santana. And not just because she was super-hot and almost as skilled in bed as he was… Actually, it wasn't about that at all, was that weird? She just seemed to have a thought behind everything she said in regards of his work. He didn't really know what was going through her head exactly, he was no damn mind-reader, either, but there was something about the tone in her voice as she asked how many regulars he had or how much they paid him.

She talked about it so casually, actually even more casually than he did, but her voice always got just a bit less harsh and more human than usual when she talked about it. He didn't want her to be concerned or whatever, because what the hell was there to be concerned about? But he also liked that she seemed to even care about his life.

Fuck, that was probably the sappiest thought ever.

Her words from a few weeks ago still occasionally seemed to rang in the back of his mind: _"If __the gender roles were reversed here, and you were a girl fucking around with old men, not only would her parents file a lawsuit, but the entire world would perfectly see how fucking __wrong __it would be__."_

He shrugged them off once they appeared.

The guys mostly seemed to worship him, if only for the solid reason that he got laid more than they probably ever would. He could still see judgment from them as well, though; some of it from pure jealousy, the others might have just had the morals or whatever gay shit they decided to call it, to be genuinely repulsed. Like he gave a shit.

The first week of December was also the week he decided to cut the crap for good, and stop sugarcoating his profession: He was a hooker. Plain and simple. It wasn't like he had to do any soul-searching or a lot of analyzing of his own life or childhood or whatever to figure that out. It wasn't like he stood in front of his mirror and fucking announced it like they do in this lame, "let's pretend to be realistic"-movies that they sometimes were forced to watch in English and social studies.

It came to him as he sat by the breakfast table one morning, taking a glance out of the window just to see the neighbors' garden fully decorated for Christmas. Granted, being Jewish he didn't celebrate Christmas. His mom usually sobered up around this time of year, to get everything ready for their Hanukkah celebration. That was the case this morning. She was actually seated by the breakfast table, not saying much, but at least grasping something to eat, as well as she drank orange juice instead of whatever liquor she found in her cabinet.

It was a particular nice morning, really. Everything kind of seemed normal. Like it used to be when he was a kid, on the rare days where his dad didn't try to crush his air pipes or crack his ribs. His mom was quiet, but at least she was _there_. It was still dark outside, light snowflakes were falling, slowly creating an eternal, white blanket, decorating the entire town of Lima, Ohio. He guessed it was nice, all this.

However, as he dug into the breakfast that he had paid for, he was snapped back into reality, and as he again looked out of the window, subconsciously acknowledging how the snowflakes made themselves apparent in the streetlights and Christmas lights all around the neighborhood, the thought struck him. It probably didn't show on him. He was clever like that, at hiding his emotions, or whatever. It wasn't like lightning or anything. But it was a hard enough blow to make him lose his appetite: He was a hooker. After school this day, he wouldn't go home like he had on those rare, beautiful December mornings back when he was a kid. He wouldn't be met by what for their family were some uncharacteristically idyllic family atmospheres like there had been on those days where neither of his parents were drunk, angry or frightened.

He would go over to Mrs. Feldberg's house. He would spend the afternoon tied to her bed as she rode him into oblivion. He would have her nails dug into his chest or hip bones, he would receive a sharp slap to the face if he was too loud and a fee low enough to make him feel even more worthless than he already felt if he was too quiet.

Usually, he didn't mind. Despite his classmates' disgusted phrases, despite his teachers' judgmental glares, and despite the fact that this maybe was a sign that he had hit rock bottom, just after having turned sixteen, he shook everything off.

But right here, on this oddly delightful winter morning, that was no longer the case. This very morning, that seemed so peaceful, he found himself imagining, for the first time since before his father left, a life were things were different. A life where his mother's work could provide for their family alone, a life where he was good for more than a good fuck, a life where he hadn't spent most of his childhood in constant fear of being tossed into a wall, beaten or worst of all, told by his own parents that he was worth less than nothing. A life where he didn't have a baby on the way. A life where he was good enough to even be given a chance at being in the baby's life, at least…?

A life where he could be a better friend, a better grandson, a better son and a better brother. A better father…

A life where he wouldn't, one way or another, have to abandon his own child the way his own father had abandoned him.

A life where he wasn't like him.

He knew he was being sappy and that he sounded like he had just escaped from a chick flick, but those thoughts almost made him want to cry. He buried his face in his hands, and closed his eyes for a few seconds, only to be snapped out of his thoughts by his mother's rough voice: "What are you so sappy about this morning?"

He looked at her, and how pathetic was it that he found himself grateful that she had actually acknowledged his existence? "Nothing," he shrugged, as nonchalantly as he could, before he tossed his leftovers into the trash and put his plate into the dishwasher.

His mother didn't ask more. She just stared right ahead with a lifeless look in her eyes, as she emptied her glass of orange juice. Puck knew it was only a matter of time before she went back to her bottle, but he found himself grasping this moment where she actually wasn't.

Sarah had also been silent that morning. Puck figured waking up in the dark winter just made her more sleepy than usual, but his brotherly instincts told him there was something more. She had a tired look in her eyes, drained somehow. A look he definitely didn't want to see on the face of any six-year-old, least of all, his own sister. It seemed too old to even be there in the first place. Walking over to her, he placed a hand on her shoulder as gently as he could. "You okay, Sarah?" he asked, knowing it made him a wuss, but fuck that, this was his sister. He was allowed to be lame when it came to her.

"Oh please!" came his mother's voice, as she rolled her eyes, - "Sarah's a big girl, she can take care of herself."

Puck shot her a glare that she completely ignored. He just stroked his sister's hair before telling her that it was time to get ready for school. Sarah nodded, put her plate in the dishwasher and walked upstairs to get dressed. As she was within hearing distance, Puck turned to his mother: "Look, I know you hate me, but don't take that out on her." He cocked his head in the stairway's direction, as if gesturing to Sarah.

"Hate you?" his mother's voice was dry, and she gave a humorless chuckle, - "Don't flatter yourself."

He hated how he never found the strength to say anything when she got like that.

**XXXXXXX**

"Noah?" Sarah asked as she fastened her seatbelt, and Puck pulled out of their driveway.

"Yeah?" Puck gave her a concerned glance, before turning back to watch the road.

"I don't like being home."

Her words tore at Puck's heart more than he would ever let on, and he reached out his hand and stroked her hair again. What the hell do you say when your six-year-old sister has made such a strong statement? He was sure he could have pretended like he didn't know what she was talking about, and firmly convince her that what they had with their family was normal, but he knew there was no way he could do that and at the same time want to look at himself in the mirror for the rest of the day.

"I know," he just said, with a slow nod, - "I know."

Sarah looked at him then, and finally her eyes got a look that matched her age again. He figured he had said something right. She didn't look happy, but there was something about her demeanor that was a little more as it should be now than he had been earlier that day.

"Do you?" Sarah asked, - "Like being home?"

Heaving a sigh, he just shook his head almost automatically. If this had occurred during the later hours of the day, he would maybe have been able to weld a lie about how he could manage, but right now, that didn't even seem remotely necessary. "No, I don't," he admitted, and then he suddenly understood Sarah's sudden change in demeanor, because his own shoulders almost mechanically relaxed and he felt about two pounds lighter.

Then Sarah did what he had least expected. Her beautiful little face cracked into a grin, and a sly, almost mischievous look made itself known in her eyes, like she just _knew _something was right now. As if they had some mutual understanding going on. He met her eyes, and then he cracked up, for the first time since… He couldn't even remember. Nothing was particularly funny, but the laughter overtook him, and it was the same with Sarah. She laughed so hard there were tears forming in her eyes, and just the fact that he had caused that, made him so happy he could just laugh even harder.

They laughed for the rest of the ride to Sarah's elementary school, probably looking like complete lunatics, before Puck stopped the engine, and broke his laughter with a reach of his arm and a: "Come here," slipping from his lips, as Sarah, still laughing, unbuckled her seatbelt and practically jumped on him, wrapping her thin arms around his neck. "I love you, Noah," she said, and there was still laughter in her voice, which made the statement sound even more sincere.

Completely ignoring that inner voice that told him she wouldn't have said that if she knew everything about him, he pressed a firm kiss to her cheek. "I love you too, Sarah," he stated, trying to keep his voice both firm and loving, hoping in that moment to make sure she never forgot that.

Then he let go of her, and watched as she opened the car door and walked with light footsteps towards the school entrance.

Sighing, he started the engine again, and pulled out of the parking lot, heading for McKinley. Somewhere along the way, he had managed to clench his jaw and furrow his brows.

The Puck mask was in place. Time to face reality.

**XXXXXXXX**

Finn Hudson was quite the passive lame-ass nowadays, and frankly, Puck was getting just a little bit sick of it. Just last month he had given him a beat-down in the hallway for not paying enough attention to either Quinn or the baby he thought he had on the way.

Granted, Finn had become just a bit better at that entire daddy-to-be thing, but Puck wasn't nearly satisfied. It might have been because he had some weird, odd feelings he couldn't really describe, or for that matter, hadn't really felt before, in regards of Quinn, but it was also because he, as the baby daddy, screw Quinn's motivations, wasn't gonna stand around and watch Finn do a half-assed job that even he could do better.

Fuck, Finn had needed Rachel, of all people (wow, big shock there!) only to find himself a job. He couldn't do fucking anything without having someone push his damn ass into it for him.

Shit, he was getting more moody than Quinn, which was so not cool, but fuck it. the baby was his, no matter how you twisted it, and not that he expected to be a part of the kid's life by any means, but the fact that Quinn hadn't allowed him to help her out once, even though he was working his ass off to get her money for doctor's appointments. And you could twist it however you wanted, but when push came to shove, the kind of work he was doing was a little bit out of the ordinary. At least he deserved a thanks, right?

Well, he was obviously not gonna get that.

**XXXXX**

He knew he shouldn't have said anything to Mercedes about him being the baby daddy. He didn't particularly dislike the girl, but she was a fucking blabbermouth sometimes, and of course this was too big of a secret for her to keep her mouth shut. So granted, she had told the entire Glee club.

This however, didn't mean things changed one bit. He was still the villain, even more of a villain than he had been before, actually, because he "knocked up his best friend's girl". And yes, it was true, he did, and that wasn't something to be proud of, but it wasn't like he was the only one to blame!

Quinn had cheated on her boyfriend. And they could believe her lousy-ass excuse for not dealing with her own mistakes all they wanted, but the fact of the matter is, she was aware of what she was doing. Seriously, she had asked both about Finn and protection and practically analyzed the very consequences of what they would be doing.

And yes, lying about protection was a fucking shitty thing to do, and it was almost even more stupid than shitty, but the fact of the matter, Quinn had seen that he didn't wear one, and she hadn't denied his advances as she did.

Moral of the story: They were two about this, but neither Quinn nor their so-called friends had it in them to acknowledge that. Their biggest crime had been betraying a friend and a boyfriend. But that was also the only crime that had been made here.

Still, what made the Glee Club sort of likable was that they at least managed to keep the secret, both from the school and from Rachel. Not that it was meant as a nice move for his sake or anything: They all thought he would be an unfit father. Hell, the entire town had since he was ten basically just looked at him with a look so obvious they might as well have screamed: "YOU ARE GONNA END UP JUST LIKE YOUR DAD, SO DON'T BOTHER STEPPING WITHIN A FOOT'S DISTANCE OF ME!"

He was used to it, so he guessed it didn't matter much. For as long as he knew it wasn't true, he guessed it was okay, right? The question was, though, whether or not he really did know they were wrong… Hearing it often enough from everyone who were supposed to give a shit about him (hell, even Mr. Schue looked at him like he was nothing but dirt under his shoe sometimes, and yeah, that compared to the look he gave Finn from time to time again, did sting just a little), kind of made him question his own judgments a bit.

But despite the Glee Club's overly protective nature of Finn and Quinn, Rachel Berry was no idiot, and very deep down inside, where no one, not even he most of the time, could see, Puck was okay with that. A part of him ached to get the truth out in the open. The selfish part of him wanted to claim himself father of Quinn's baby, and just as that title was claimed, she could do whatever she wanted. This entire pregnancy was on her terms. It was her body. He was very vocal about this. But you couldn't shoot him for wanting to be a part of this situation too.

Rachel was catching on, and he was plotting his approach to everything as that happened. Quinn was kicked out of her home a few weeks ago, so he would have to tell his mother… That would not be pleasant. Then, when that nightmare was over, he would have to let Quinn stay at his house, come what may.

He would also have to deal with the official loss of his best friend. That would probably be a hard punch, but he would take it. He should have backed off his girl, he knew that, so he would probably deserve what was coming to him, even though he was pissed at Finn for not giving a shit about a baby whose life Puck would kill to be a part of.

He knew he had fucked up majorly. He was a fuck-up, this was basically what he did. He shouldn't have sexted Santana during him and Quinn's baby-sitting, but it wasn't like he could do anything else – he was fucking tied to a chair, and not in the sexy way, and he and Quinn weren't dating, so it wasn't like he was doing anything particularly wrong. Besides, he pulled off the babysitting as well, so why complain? He wasn't one to justify every single of his shitty actions, but this one they could at least let slide, couldn't they?

It was only a matter of time before Finn found out, and when that happened, Puck also knew he would have to get more money. Which meant he would have to take the bull by the horns again, and call the cougars out on their crap a second time. They were paying a teenager to fuck them, they couldn't just continue to pay him as if he was their pool-cleaner. 20 bucks every now and then wouldn't do. He would have to double it, at least, and they would have to agree on it.

They weren't exactly doing anything wrong, so as far as he was concerned, he couldn't blackmail them into anything… But he would find away. It was his business, his rules, and then they'd have the control in the bedroom department. Best deal ever.

**XXXXX**

He had been damn right about it being only a matter of time. Before Mr. Schuester even approached the choir room that afternoon for Glee Club, Finn Hudson came storming into the choir room.

It probably should have meant something to be punched in the face by your supposed best friend, but as of right then the only thing Puck could think about was how to block the punches from damaging his face. He knew one thing, though: Finn knew. And that changed everything.

Before he knew what was really going on, Finn was violently dragged off him, and he got to his feet, yelling to Schuester about what happened. Schuester kept his gentle hands and glares on Finn, who just cross-examined both him and Quinn about whether "it" was true or not. They all knew what "it" was, of course, and Puck left Quinn to tell Finn the truth.

"Yes," she sobbed with a vague nod, - "Puck is the father."

There was something in the way she sobbed out his name. Almost as if his name was a curse word of some kind, but maybe it was just the fact that her voice was stuck in her throat? There really was no way for him to know, but this was absolutely not the time to be a pussy about that.

"So…," Finn said hesitantly, and he had tears in his eyes now, and Puck guessed that deep down that made him feel a little off, but this wasn't the time to worry about that. "All that stuff, in the hot tub…?"

Okay, he was bringing that up? That was what he came up with now?

"You were stupid enough to buy it!"

Finn made a run for him again, and Schuester actually had the decency to stop him… Even though he deserved a total beat-down. And then Finn entangled himself from Schuester, and he was out the door, shrugging off Schuester's lame-ass comment about rehearsing.

**XXXXXXX**

Puck approached Quinn by her locker after Glee that day. Grabbing a wad of cash from the front of his jeans, he reached for her hand and placed the money in it. "Here," he said, and he knew he sounded like a pussy, because his voice had suddenly gone soft for some reason.

She gave a dry chuckle that didn't sound the least bit humorous. "Thanks," she said dryly, and Puck knew it made him pathetic, but he was glad she at least had accepted his money now.

"It's just 40 bucks," he said, attempting to get a conversation going, - "But I can get more."

Quinn looked at him, and Puck swore he had never seen her looked so broken. It kind of tore him apart.

"What the hell am I gonna do now?" she asked, and Puck didn't have to be a rocket scientist to understand that she was referring to her housing situation. Or lack of.

"You're gonna move in with me now," he said bluntly.

Another dry chuckle was given, but she nodded. "Thank you," she said again, and this time she sounded a bit more sincere than last time.

Puck smiled at her. "Go back to Finn's place, pack your bags and then you can come over to my place after I've cleared things out with ma, okay?"

He looked into her eyes for assurance, and she gave a small smile and a nod. "Okay," she confirmed, and then she heaved a sigh, pulled her bag over her shoulder and walked out of the school.

Puck knew it then, and he knew that given his situation that was the most fucked up thing ever, but he was one hundred percent in love with Quinn Fabray.

And that somehow served to fuck this situation up even more.

**A/N: I decided to end it here, and next chapter will revolve around Puck's mother's reaction to the pregnancy and also around how Puck feels after Christmas and Hanukkah, and about Finn still getting all the sympathy from Schuester. Stay tuned!**


End file.
